


In Regards to Our Love

by Criztalkey, markedgreen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Escort Service, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Phichit best bff, Sexual Tension, Yuuri Katsuki best skater in the world, chris nun outfit, slow burn for an escort fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-07-02 20:58:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Criztalkey/pseuds/Criztalkey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/markedgreen/pseuds/markedgreen
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is the top men's figure skater but when he goes through a slump his friend Phichit's suggestion of hiring an escort gets very complicated very fast.





	1. Talk to me, dance with me

“ _Amazing! Yuri Plisetsky of Russia has broken Yuuri Katsuki of Japan’s Free Program score!_ ”

A feeling of dread ran down Yuuri’s spine as the announcement boomed through the speakers.

He’d been told by many people that he was one of the best skaters in the world, but as Yuuri watched his previous Free Program score be beaten by someone eight years his junior, he felt like he had to strongly disagree with that summation.

Standing at the rinkside of Sochi’s World’s arena, his eyes scanned the audience. He watched as the crowd in the St. Petersburg rink erupted with joy as one of their own managed to break the previously unbreakable record. The record that he’d held for three years.

Yuuri felt his heart rate accelerate as his mind ran with different scenarios at the revelation that he was not the best in this sport anymore. He didn’t expect this, or rather, he didn’t expect he would feel like an absolute failure knowing that someone else had beaten his score.

He gripped the top of the board, closed his eyes, and with his conscious mind tried to calm himself down.

_It’s okay, okay Katsuki. People beat each other's scores every day. Today is no different._

His fingers curled over the board, gripping it hard, his eyes shot open and absolute dread filled him. In a couple of minutes, they’ll announce the winner of Sochi Worlds, and here he was already admitting defeat. Admitting that he was a failure. The anxiety bubbles forming inside his stomach caused it to heave unhelpfully at the thought of losing this battle. He hunched over and wrapped his hands around his mouth just in case.

“Yuuri.” A firm but concerned voice pulled Yuuri’s attention back to reality. It was his coach, Celestino. The older long-haired man had a troubled look on his face like he knew what was going on in Yuuri’s head.

“Yuuri relax, even with Plisetsky’s Free Program score you’re going to win, I did the math,” he said gently, extending out his hand to rub Yuuri’s back.

Drawing in a deep breath, still slouching, Yuuri forced out a fake smile at his coach. He was so busy psyching himself out that he didn’t do the math and within a minute of them tallying Yuri’s combined Short program and Free skate score, the results came in.

“With a combined 331.21 points, Yuuri Katsuki wins first place at Sochi’s Worlds Final, second is Yuri Plisetsky with 330.34 points, and third is Phichit Chulanont with 296.57 points…”

The stadium erupted with cheers again, each area screeching for their respective skaters. The fanfare was grating static to Yuuri's ears.

“See, Yuuri! You won again! Nothing to worry about. The crowd is cheering for you!” His coach bellowed with happiness, continuously patting Yuuri’s back with a force that made the slouchy skater stand up straight.

Yuuri knew this was part of his anxiety. He knew he should be happy because regardless of someone beating his free program score he still won. Yuuri had moments and he knew it, but he couldn’t control it and he hated it.

There were days where he was confident, high as the sky, and there were days like these... Days where if anything didn’t go smoothly, he would crumble internally, suffering in his head, alone. It didn’t matter that he won four, well, now five World Finals, five Grand Prix Finals and an Olympic medal for his country. It didn’t matter because Yuuri Katsuki never thought he was good enough for anything, and Yuuri Katsuki knew this was his downfall.

Raising his gaze to look at his coach, he took a breath. As Celestino continued grinning, there was something Yuuri finally said that made him stop laughing.

“Ciao Ciao… I don’t know if I want to continue skating.” 

* * *

Yuuri could feel the heat radiating from the glare his best friend was giving him. Phichit Chulanont, bronze medalist in the Worlds final, and Yuuri’s best confidante was lying down next to him, glaring at him.

They were both lying down side by side on Yuuri’s queen sized bed in his hotel room. Both had their pajamas on, feet dangling off the bed, the difference was that Phichit was wearing his bronze medal around his neck while Yuuri tossed his gold medal somewhere in his bag.

“Yuuriiii, are you serious?” Phichit started to whine. Yuuri sighed, Phichit had heard from Celestino that Yuuri tried to jump the gun... again.

They both had Celestino as their coach and have been training for more than 10 years together, going to college together as well. If anything, Yuuri would say Phichit is one of his favorite people in the world. Therefore he knew how Phichit was going to react to the fact that he wanted to possibly quit skating.  
  
“I really think you’re overreacting. For someone who just won Worlds for like, the fourth - _no_ , now fifth! year in a row, you sure are a drama queen,” his friend laid into him.

Yuuri sighed again, knowing that Phichit meant well. He knew Phichit understood him to a certain extent, training with him for the longest time. But like everyone else, no one knew how to handle it. He was just glad that Phichit was always by his side whenever he needed.

“I know. I just don’t feel…right. I feel like my time is ending and I’m not good enough anymore,” he explained to his shocked friend.

Yuuri didn’t know why Phichit was always shocked whenever he said this as this was probably the twentieth time Phichit was hearing this.

Scoffing, Phichit sat up in disbelief, “You are a legend, and you are saying this? Yuuuuuuriii you are killing me,” he continued whining in frustration.

Yuuri, still flat on the bed turned to glance at Phichit through his glasses. A soft smile appearing on his face, conveying to Phichit he was okay and tried to make a joke out of it, “I know, stupid huh?”

They both looked at each for a while before Phichit threw his hands up in the air and sighed in resignation. Yuuri always dropped things on Phichit, and while he knew Phichit didn’t agree with most of his choices, Yuuri knew his best friend would usually side with him.

“Fine Yuuri,” he said in defeat, but with a mischievous smile. Yuuri felt a sense of relief to have his friend understand this and drop the subject. However, his relief was short lived.

“Know what you need? You need to get laid.”

“HUH!” Yuuri’s surprised tone and horrified look made Phichit chuckle.

Now it was Yuuri’s turn to jolt up straight on the bed. The fact that Phichit said it nonchalantly made Yuuri feel like his friend had thought about this for a while. Yuuri shook both his head and hands furiously, clearly indicating that he did not agree with Phichit.

Phichit was still grinning mischievously, “Listen, hear me out. Since you’re in this funk, it’s not like you’re going to practice for the next competition or anything. How about you have fun?” he explained to Yuuri.

“I heard that there are…” he looked around like there were people listening on to their conversation, then decided to scoot closer to a confused Yuuri on the bed.

Phichit leaned into him, lowering his voice “...Escorts,” he whispered.

Yuuri’s mouth fell open. He really wished Phichit wasn’t so out there sometimes. Yuuri equated that to the word hooker as he didn’t really know what escorts meant besides paying someone to have sex with you.

Again Yuuri couldn’t contain his horrified look.

“No,” he shook his head violently. “Not a chance. Bad idea. You can’t be serious.”  
  
_Seriously, he can’t be serious._

Phichit pouted and grabbed Yuuri’s shoulders so Yuuri could look at how serious he was.

“I am _very serious_ Katsuki.”

Yuuri gulped, Phichit rarely called him Katsuki unless he meant business. Yuuri, with stiff shoulders, stared back into his friend’s brown eyes.

A million thoughts ran through Yuuri’s head.

_This was a bad idea. Escorts? What are those? Hookers? Prostitutes? This is crazy!_

He finally let out an exasperated sigh and bit the bottom of his lip. “Just… explain to me what this is.” Yuuri said with absolute hesitation.

“AHHHH!” Phichit squealed, clasping his hands together. Yuuri instantly regretted his decision, in fact, Yuuri was going to regret a lot of decisions going forward, but for now, he regretted asking more about this.

Within seconds Phichit grabbed his phone and started texting, looking like he was ready to set things up. While he was texting, he was filling Yuuri in on the ‘escort’ situation.

“Don’t worry. Apparently, these escorts aren’t really hookers,” he whispered again, looking up from his phone.

“Stop whispering like this is illegal!” Yuuri said worriedly, then he thought about it, and gasped. “Oh my god is it illegal? Phichit don’t you dare.”

Phichit shook his head, “No-no-no. You can like talk to them, a few of my friends…” he trailed off, narrowing his eyes like he knew things, he had his ‘ _ooooh do I have a scoop for you look_ ’ that Yuuri knew well. All Yuuri had to do was wait for Phichit to drop the ball, and his friend always did.  
  
Phichit lowered his voice again, “Some of our skater friends do this here and in other countries. I won’t name names...Michele, Emil and Georgi-” He whispered like the gossip queen he was. “They told me they’re like high-class escorts, they can be anything you want, like a therapist even. Apparently, you can just hire them to talk,” he explained.

Yuuri sighed in relief. Phichit continued, “-And have sex with them too if you want.”

Yuuri grimaced, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was so done with this conversation, he was at a loss for words.

“Yuuri, relax. It’s a win-win. Talk to them! I think it would be good if you got another person perspective on your anxiety and issues. Talking to your immediate circle, which is just a bunch of skaters anyways won’t help you with your issues. Talking to an outsider might help. If you wanna do stuff, go do stuff. If not, just talk. Although I preferred it if you did stuff,” he winked.

His friend was enjoying this too much although he had a point. Phichit actually made this whole escort thing make sense, and if other skaters were doing this too, it was…okay, right? At this revelation, Yuuri slumped his shoulders and groaned.

Clearly Phichit took this a sign of defeat and acceptance because the man bounced up in eagerness.

“SO, do you want a guy or a girl?” Phichit asked cheerfully getting to the point, oblivious to how weird it was to talk about genders like ice cream flavors. Although this talk was way past weird because…escorts.

“I told you, it doesn’t matter,” Yuuri was used to his best friend asking him the weirdest things.

As far as both of their relationships go, Phichit was such a social butterfly, dated around way more, while Yuuri was way more reserved. They had talked about gender preference before but Yuuri had never been in love or been in a relationship to know what he liked or didn't like. The only person he ever had a crush on was Yuuko from his childhood days, but she married Takeshi, and nothing ever came out of that crush.

Yuuri could see Phichit’s eyes gleam playfully. “Surprise it is!” his friend sang.

* * *

Yakov's house was a real mess.

Several pairs of shoes were piled together...right next to the shoe rack. There were papers and mail on practically every visible surface except the tiny spaces made for the dozen or so empty glasses sitting around.

Viktor Nikiforov wasn't a neat freak by any stretch, but he shouldn't have to move someone else's laundry before he could sit down. That was his low bar for cleanliness and Yakov had passed it weeks ago. His boss was not handling being separated from his wife well. It didn't show in their business but it was more than apparent at his unkempt home.

He narrowed his eyes at Chris, who he knew had been by here before but had apparently done nothing.

"Don't look at _me_ like that." His friend tsked and they both walked carefully through the living room so as not to create breeze that would result in a paper avalanche.

"I wasn't looking any particular way." Viktor replied smiling.

"Mhm."

They found Yakov in his office, the only tidy place in the whole house, like his work was surrounded by a protective bubble from his life falling apart.

"Yakov you have to hire someone to clean up in here." Viktor sighed. They would usually lay around in the living room and eat Yakov's food while they waited for him, standing around in his office felt one step too far into professionalism for Viktor's taste.

"Oh and both of you are free right now?" Yakov grumbled. He didn't look up from the files he was putting together.

"I watch other people clean." Chris said.

"I've only ever fake dusted." Viktor added.

"Why would you 'fake' dust?" Chris asked, frowning and smiling at the same time. "Just go ahead and _real_ dust."

"It was more about the maid outfit." Viktor shrugged. "Everything I 'cleaned' was already clean..."

"Do you look cute in a maid outfit?"

"Unfortunately."

"Are you two done?" Yakov asked, rubbing at his temples like he had a headache. "It’s last minute but there’s no helping it, I have two new clients, one for each of you.”

"You mean they scheduled us for tonight?" Chris mumbled as they both took the write-ups Yakov had put together for them.

"Yes, that's what last minute means Chris." Yakov snipped.

"He's so grouchy." Viktor loudly whispered behind the manila folder he was holding.

"I know, it's strange." Chris replied in the same completely audible whisper voice.

"Will you just look over them and make sure you don't have any questions?" The older man said irritably.

"I have a question." Viktor said, raising his hand for a second. "We don't know this guy, do we Yakov? It says he's a figure skater."

"No, he's from Japan."

"Why's he in Russia?" He scrunched up his nose when he asked, worried about why someone would travel so far from home to hire an escort. Though none of the hard fetish stuff was checked in his file.

"Maybe he liked it so much when he came to Sochi he decided to stay." Yakov shrugged, sounding like he was trying to be sarcastic with his curt tone.

"What was in Sochi?" Viktor hid his face with his folder, wondering why Yakov asked for questions if he was just going to be a jerk about it.

"...Worlds...was in Sochi." Yakov talked slowly, like he was stunned that Viktor didn't know.

"Didn't you choreograph for a Russian skater? That skated there?" Chris added his own disbelief to Yakov's, till they were both staring at him like he was an idiot.

"I don't keep up with sports, okay!" Viktor huffed indignantly. "Everyone's always talking my ear off about sports _at work_ so I ignore it in my free time."

He was shocked to see Chris give him a disappointed look, not unlike the one he'd been giving him when they came in. "That's so sad Viktor, you didn't even watch him skate your program."

"I was going to...later. _Anyway_ -" He turned back to Yakov, smiling where his employer was still scowling. "-I don't have any more questions. Chris?"

"Not unless we have a conflict of interest with this one pharmaceutical rep." Chris said lightly.

"Good, then goodnight." Yakov said with an air of finality...that Chris and Viktor both ignored, staying exactly where they were. He frowned at the two of them, looking back and forth between them before huffing. "What?"

"Yakov you need to stop..." Viktor clicked his tongue as he searched for a word soft yet stern enough for the occasion, glancing to Chris for help.

"Sulking?" he offered.

Viktor gave him a thumbs up. "Exactly. You need to stop sulking. You know we like to hang out here and there's just...junk! All over everything! I can't nap on the couch, all the dishes are dirty so we're eating from our hands like cavemen-" With each new complaint he listed he held up a finger and Chris nodded supportively next to him right up until Yakov finally kicked them out.

* * *

Yuuri ended up in a really nice bar, the kind where slow live jazz music was playing in the background, very low key but high-end. It showed on the cocktail prices.

But he kept shifting in his seat, unable to get comfortable. How could he? He was regretting this now, sitting at this bar he’d never been to and feeling like all the rich Russian’s around him were staring and whispering behind his back, or so that was what he thought.

He should’ve just picked someone, or at least picked between a man or a woman, or at the most completely bailed on this idea and run away.

He was jumping out of his skin every time he thought someone was walking over to him, and this was shaving off years of his life. Maybe if he had a couple more of drinks he’d calm down.

Yes…a couple more drinks wouldn’t hurt, right? Yuuri ordered more from the bartender.

He was close to three gin and tonic deep now, and the napkins that came under the glasses were shredded to bits. He tore them while waiting. Clearly, he was extremely nervous. He was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, but it also made him feel slightly more relaxed.

Phichit only told him to go this bar, far away from the hotel so no one they knew could ruin this ‘date’, as he’d called it. The last couple of dates Yuuri ever went on ended up badly, mostly because he was so unresponsive. He usually annoyed or pissed off his dates. So in his mind, he’d never technically had a real date.

Yuuri snorted loudly. “Date.”

He couldn’t believe he agreed to this craziness.

“I believe that’s what you call it.” A sensual voice suddenly replied.

Yuuri jerked in shock and turned around to face the voice. He found himself staring at a pair of beautiful vivid blue-green eyes.

_So beautiful._

That was the first thing that crossed Yuuri’s mind when he saw the other person’s eyes, his heartbeat racing.

He then snapped out of it and focused in on the whole. There was a man sitting next to him, a gorgeous, well dressed silver-haired man. His gaze raked over him. How long had he been sitting there?

The man wore a slim fit off-white three-piece suit with dark loafers that matched so well. He had daunting Russian features, with side swept bouncy silver hair, but that wasn't what caught Yuuri’s attention. It was the way the man carried himself. So full of pride and confidence. Something Yuuri never had.

The man sat in his chair with such an air of exaggerated casualness, with his extremely well-tailored slacks encasing his perfectly shaped hips and legs, making Yuuri feel so stiff and awkward in his seat.

The man chuckled. “Waiting for someone?” he asked, his voice oozing with sensuality. When he reached for his own drink Yuuri noticed the buttoned vest stretched across his chest. It should be hiding his abs, but instead, it weirdly emphasized that he had abs.

Yuuri snapped out of his state and stuttered, slightly tipsy. “Huh?” he shook his head. He felt so parched like he hadn’t drunk in a day. “Y-Yes. I-I’m waiting for someone.”

“A date?” he asked.

Yuuri shook his head, his face red from drinking. “I don’t think so,” he actually didn’t know what this meeting was. It wasn’t a date per se. “I don’t know what it is. My friend put me in a weird situation.”

Another drink came for him and he didn’t remember ordering it, but who cares? He welcomed more drinks.

“Oh?” The man looked intrigued. “What situation?” he asked.

Yuuri took another swig of his drink because how could he tell a stranger about his plight. The man would think what he was doing was crazy as well, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of this guy.

The heat that was taking Yuuri over from the alcohol made him woozy, or tipsy in this case.

“It’s a weird situation,” Yuuri whispered.

“I can keep a secret,” the man whispered back with a grin.

Yuuri thought his smile was really cute. He shook his head to throw that thought away, but shaking his head just made Yuuri’s tipsiness increase.

“Can you? Then can I tell you I think I suck at my job? I have to make a decision if I want to continue doing it in the next few weeks after this stupid ice show I have to do.” Yuuri suddenly blurted out, and then instantly regretted telling a complete stranger his problems.

He grimaced at what he’d just said. “Oh god, sorry I was keeping that in all day. Please ignore me!” He felt like burrowing himself a hole in the ground to hide in.

He turned away from the man and ordered another drink, extremely embarrassed. He could still feel the strangers gaze on him and it made Yuuri even more self-conscious, so he focused on drinking.

“Now I can't ignore you after all that,” the stranger quipped, “Why do you think you suck?” he asked, sounding truly genuine.

“I’m just not that good anymore,” Yuuri answered automatically, the alcohol wasn’t even trying to stop him from regurgitating his feelings. He just needed to talk, and the stress of getting set up with an escort was piling.

“I thought I was good until I’m not. Someone nearly beat me in this competition and I didn’t handle it well. I should just retire while I’m on top.” his shoulders slumped, thinking about it hurt his brain and he decided to grab another drink.

“You really love what you do for this to bother you, doesn’t it?”

Yuuri looked up at the stranger and nodded giving him a bitter smile, trying to keep tears out of his eyes from remembering too much about it, “Yeah…yeah, I do love it…” he trailed off and then he slammed the glass he was holding on the table.

“But forget that!” Yuuri took another drink and then suddenly lowered his voice, “You know who I am supposed to meet today?”

The man cocked his head to the side, raising his brows in curiosity. “Oh? Who?”

“Someone...my best friend stupidly set me up with,” he told the handsome man.

“Really? Tell me more.” The man prodded, resting an elbow on the bar while looking at Yuuri. He batted his lush eyelashes at Yuuri, who noticed it, and instantly found him to be so inviting.

Taking a swig of his drink, Yuuri now went from being reserved to happily complying. He was getting loose.

“So my best friend had this ridiculous idea for me to meet with a…” He paused looking around the bar afraid someone would be eavesdropping. He motioned for the man to move closer, and the man happily moved his seat over and leaned closer to Yuuri.

“I’m supposed to meet with an escort,” Yuuri whispered, and quickly closed his mouth with both his hands like he said something illegal.

“No way. Really?” The man gasped playfully, his hair bounced beautifully against his face, Yuuri noticed this too.

“YES! Really!” Yuuri burst out, thinking the man didn’t believe him from the way he reacted.

Yuuri grabbed another drink, wait, when did this drink come? Who cares?

“Apparently they exist! I don’t know anything about this. What do I do? Is it like a code word? Do we exchange numbers under the table, is he going to give me a briefcase full of drugs?” Yuuri was out of control chattering now, incoherently at that.

“I think you’re thinking of spy now. Spy. Not escort. You sure you know what you’re doing here? Do you know what he looks like?” the man chuckled, his eyes gleamed, Yuuri noticed that as well.

He shook his head, “No. I don’t,” his eyes glazed over the man, noticing everything about him. Yuuri was very aware of how attractive this guy was, and how nicely he carried himself. Yuuri was smitten. Extremely smitten.

“I hope he looks like you though, I think you’re really handsome.” Yuuri finally blurted out, and was instantly horrified at what left his own lips. He wanted to die, goddamn his Kyushu born and bred low tolerance for alcohol. It made him say and do the dumbest things. Blushing profusely, he buried his face into his palms in absolute shame.

The man started laughing making Yuuri want to dig a grave right then and there. His face and ears were probably bright red.

“Hey…” the man said softly grabbing Yuuri's hands and pulling them away from his face.

Yuuri found himself staring back at those beautiful light blue-green eyes. The man, whose name he did not know yet, basically took Yuuri’s hands from his face and continued holding his hands in his.

“I didn’t mean to laugh. I just thought your reactions were cute,” he explained. He finally let go of Yuuri’s hands. Yuuri took that opportunity to grab another drink and chugged it straight.

“My name is Viktor Nikiforov,” he smiled, “I thought I’d let you know my name after I told you, you were cute,” he winked. "Now it's your turn."

He even introduced himself in the most charming way possible, Yuuri blushed. Was he now probably six? Twenty? or more drinks in? He didn't know, nor was he coherent in his thinking but he managed to cough out his name.

“I’m Yuuri Katsuki.”

His brown eyes flickered over to look at the man's face again, Viktor was his name, and he was still smiling back at him. Somehow, by some weird feeling Yuuri felt comfortable with him, so he reached out and grabbed Viktor’s hand back.

Yuuri jumped out of his seat, eyes lighting up with joy and blurry intoxication. He pulled a very surprised Russian off his seat.

“Dance with me handsome,” Yuuri demanded, giggling, as he dragged Viktor to the dance floor, just in time for a [slow dance soft jazz music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PK3wavc_bm0) to turn on.

* * *

Viktor couldn't count how many times he had ended up at some big party where a huge hall was rented out, a live band was playing, and not _one_ guest would be dancing. After all, Viktor had studied ballet and dance since he was young and had even been a danseur for a short period of time. It was just one of the many reasons Viktor was such an expensive date. His clients were not just paying for his arm-candy services, but also to spare them from being embarrassed on the dance floor...and, admittedly, for his flexibility later in the evening. It wasn’t just a waste of money, but Viktor was also only human, so quite frankly he got bored with just standing around.

"You're really good at this." The tipsy Japanese man said, smiling much more openly now that he was on his feet.

"I was just about to say the same thing to you." Viktor replied easily. Even after having several drinks Yuuri moved with more grace than most, he probably cross-trained with this sort of thing like other skaters. He was just about to steer the conversation in that direction when Yuuri beat him to it again.

"Do you dance or...take classes?" He moved up close as the music slowed down and Viktor found how his face flushed a darker shade of red to be kind of charming.

"I used to, I still like to practice." When he smiled Yuuri always looked dazed for just a second afterwards.

"...What do you practice?" He asked, putting one arm over Viktor's shoulder as they swayed to the piano's softer rhythm. He studied Viktor's face very openly, like he was admiring him. Call him shallow, but Viktor liked that. People who hired him often took someone as good looking as him for granted. In his opinion anyway.

"Anything I want really...my old ballet instructor lets me use her studio when it's free." He had to pause to remind himself not to say Lilia's name. He found himself surprisingly unused to someone asking him about himself at work.

"You did ballet?" Yuuri beamed. "Did you ever perform?"

"A _long_ time ago." Viktor chuckled. "I had long hair then too."

"You must've been gorgeous with long hair." As Yuuri spoke he brushed Viktor's bangs aside gently. Their eyes met though, and when Yuuri registered Viktor's surprise he jerked his hand back. "Sorry-"

"It's fine, it's fine." Viktor laughed, trying to be reassuring. He really wasn't used to a client giving him any sort of affectionate treatment like this. The younger man had started to pull away, and for a second he'd looked how he had at the bar, unsure of himself. He squeezed Yuuri's waist to keep him close and raised one eyebrow suggestively. "You can touch me as much as you want."

He covered his face and laughed nervously behind his hand. "Don't say that."

Viktor found himself genuinely smiling suddenly. "Why?"

The music picked up ever so slightly, the pianist now apparently aware that someone was paying attention, and Yuuri's eyes lit up.

"Viktor, you're taller than me, so...can you spin me?" He asked excitedly, completely ignoring or forgetting what they'd been talking about. Hearing his own name in a Japanese accent was distracting though. His lip twitched up to grin without him meaning to.

"Of course."

As the melody came to a particularly complicated flourish Yuuri pushed away from Viktor into a twirl that ended with both of their hands linked at the end of extended arms and eyes locked. With music Yuuri's whole presence changed. The little half smirk he shot Viktor before spinning back towards him held all the confidence that had been absent up till this point. Yuuri smiled heatedly, turning a lithe arm to once again drape over Viktor's shoulder at the end of his twirl.

Matching Yuuri's mood, Viktor thought nothing of turning with his weight. With his arm wrapped around the small of Yuuri's back he dipped him low, and lower still when Yuuri realized what he was doing and arched his back into the movement. Viktor was surprised when Yuuri suddenly entrusted all his support to him, both his hands fanning artfully across Viktor's face, like they really were performing. And with the strength and poise of a professional athlete Yuuri leaned up with just his back and stomach muscles and pressed their lips together so very softly.

Breathless, though he'd hardly done anything, Viktor raised Yuuri back up. Both of them abruptly disinterested in dancing and standing centimeters apart from one another, fingers interlocked and foreheads together. Yuuri didn't say anything, flashes of uncertainty crossed his expression through the heat he seemed to be trying to seer Viktor with.

So Viktor decided to do his due diligence for this customer and help him along.

...That was _partially_ a lie.

Sure, he was supposed to put his clients at ease, understand what they wanted without them telling him, and generate repeat business...but he hardly ever put much effort into any of that. Being charming and supportive was rarely required, requested, or even wanted of him. Against everything in his nature, he'd become rather stand offish when it came to work, where as he'd started with much more enthusiasm.

So for the first time in a long time, he was going to put some effort into his job.

Why?

Because he really, really, _really_ wanted to fuck this Yuuri guy right then, and he was kind of _supposed_ to anyway so to Viktor that was a win-win.

"Should we go to your place?" Viktor prompted as casually as he could. The smell of vodka and mint hovered in the tiny space between them and he wanted to taste that properly somewhere.

"Okay...." Yuuri responded in a whisper, his eyes lidded and transfixed on Viktor in a way that made a shiver of excitement run down his spine.

He quirked his head to the side, making sure that their lips just barely brushed together when he spoke. "Then let's go."

Viktor wasn't sure how far from the bar Yuuri's hotel was. Within seconds of getting in a cab, telling the driver where to go, and settling down in the backseat, Viktor was practically pinned against the door by the smaller (yet surprisingly strong) man. They pulled at each other's clothes in frustration through the streets of St. Petersburg and Yuuri gasped so loudly between kisses that Viktor only heard the cab driver cough awkwardly once. Though he was probably doing that the whole ride.

By the time they were dropped off in front of Yuuri’s brightly lit hotel they _both_ seemed out of breath from making out in the backseat.

They hardly made it into the hotel room without jumping each other, Viktor having already pressed the younger man into the corner of the elevator to more carefully learn at what speed and motion Yuuri liked to be kissed at. Once inside Viktor only bothered with blindly flipping on whatever light switch was closest to him and then ended up stumbling into a mostly dark room. Light on their feet on the dance floor, but while kissing and undressing each other they tripped over one another a couple of times on the way to the bed.

"You’re...amazing..." Yuuri said, stopping in the middle of his sentence to watch Viktor peal off his dress shirt.

Viktor smiled and turned his head so his bangs covered half his face and enjoyed Yuuri watching his every move. "I haven't even done anything yet."

"I like to look at you-" Yuuri said bluntly, his voice only slurring a little. He reached out and grazed Viktor's stomach lightly with the tips of his fingers, eliciting a shudder. "-to touch you." Deep brown eyes met his own with a certain intensity. "I like your voice."

"Really? Should I talk more?" Viktor asked semi-playfully, trying not to get taken in with compliments too easily. He unbuttoned Yuuri's shirt for him, sliding the back of his knuckles against his skin.

"Yes."

"Well, what should I talk about, Mr. _Katsuki_?" He slipped Yuuri's shirt over his shoulders and leaned forward to kiss him. If Viktor pressed his teeth against the other man's bottom lip, even gingerly, Yuuri would make a tiny noise in the back of his throat.

"Anything." Yuuri murmured against his lips, making Viktor chuckle.

"You’re really irresistible." He leaned forward, laying them both down as he dotted his mouth all over Yuuri's throat and collar bone, making him tremble and tangle his fingers in Viktor's hair.

He kissed Viktor's ear once before he licked it long and slow. "Then stop resisting." The words were a hot and needy whisper that hit like a hammer.

The unfamiliar feeling of being wanted washed over him and every connection between them tingled and left memories and expectations on Viktor's nerves. Yuuri kissed mostly open mouthed, dragging wet trails from Viktor's chest, to his throat, to his lips again. Pink marks started to blossom in his wake, visible even in the half-dark. The same graceful arm as before wrapped around Viktor's shoulder, pulling him close.

They couldn't separate at all for a time, not that either of them were trying, but Viktor hadn't expected to melt so completely into this maddeningly gentle embrace. The tenderness left him vulnerable and unprepared for when Yuuri slid his leg firmly up Viktor's inner thigh. Yuuri held Viktor's face with both hands, watching him as he did it. The heated fascination in the younger man's eyes made him breath faster as much as the pressure against his dick.

Yuuri gave him the same intimate smirk he had on the dance floor and Viktor was surprised to find himself really, earnestly, and thoroughly seduced. For a few moments, as he rolled himself against Yuuri while being studied, he didn't realize he was at work.

He was absorbed in this man's careful observation of him. A thumb grazed his lips, he leaned into the open palm on his cheek, light fingertips brushed his brow and held back his hair, all while brown eyes mapped his face under dark lashes.

"Viktor...you're very pretty when you blush."

"...Thank you." He couldn't think of a single clever or seductive thing to say. His mind had gone stupidly blank and he felt his ears and the back of his neck get hotter as he enjoyed the fawning.

"You're welcome." Yuuri was oblivious to the blow to Viktor's ego that'd taken place and continued to pet him, his hands moving reluctantly away from Viktor's hair and onto to his shoulders and chest. Now free (not that he'd been complaining), Viktor was able to lean down and start ravishing the other man's skin again. To get back some semblance of control and also because he just wanted to at this point. Once again Yuuri shivered at every press of his lips, but when Viktor's mouth moved down the shivering ceased abruptly as all of his muscles tensed.

He paused, looking up. Yuuri had been gasping and almost scratching Viktor's back as he'd sucked and bit all over him, but was now stiff and as silent as he could be with as breathless as he was.

"What's wrong?" Viktor tilted his head to the side, hoping to appear charming even with his hair probably all messed up and his lips wet. "Should I stop?" He swallowed after he said the last part, only realizing after he'd said it how much he hoped the answer was 'no'.

"S-Sorry." Yuuri laughed nervously. He sat up on a wavering elbow, still at least a little drunk. "I've never done this before."

Viktor slid off the younger man's underwear, maintaining eye contact as he did. "Been with a man or-?"

"Had sex." Yuuri snorted.

"At all?" Viktor asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. It wasn't like he'd never done the whole virgin's-first-time thing, but this guy just didn't seem like the type. Maybe his shy side got in the way but after a few drinks he was fine (more than fine), and it wasn't like alcohol was hard to find.

"At all." He affirmed, sighing. Viktor had started rubbing at his tensed thighs in an effort to get him to relax and it seemed to be working. Yuuri trembled under the massage, softening and leaning back, but gaze staying locked onto Viktor. Under that intense, erotic stare he wondered again how Yuuri could've never had sex. If he had ever looked at someone else the way he was looking right now they’d have been just as captured as Viktor was.

"Oh, that's too bad." He let his thumbs stretch out, pressing gently at the base of Yuuri's dick. The other man shook but didn't freeze up like before. "Now your first time's going to be your best time."

Finally feeling like he was leading rather than being led, Viktor took Yuuri into his mouth without any other warning, delighting in the mix of moan and gasp he drew from him. Viktor's name slurred together with Japanese words he didn't understand were whispered above him as Yuuri's fingers tangled through his hair. If it hadn't been messed up before it definitely was now. That kind of thing usually bothered him a lot but right then he barely noted it. He was too busy sucking Yuuri and hoping he'd get to fuck him or get fucked by him. He didn't usually do the latter at work but he'd already passed the point of upholding that rule.

When he flattened his tongue and deep throated him Yuuri's grip on his hair turned painful for a second then disappeared entirely, one hand going to white knuckle the sheets and his free arm covering his face, presumably to try to muffle the long lewd moan he made. Viktor would've smirked if his mouth hadn't been full, and thought that Yuuri would really regret not watching him during this part. Going slow and wet, Viktor set out to give the best head of his life, his own dick getting harder at Yuuri trying to roll his hips through his own shivering.

It wasn't long before Yuuri dissolved completely under him, his legs shaking then giving up. All his muscles relaxed finally while his dick stiffened further, making Viktor actually have to come up for air to readjust and fit it back down his throat. The slight taste of precum was on his tongue and he felt a rush of heat sweep over him from the inside. He was getting painfully hard and he wasn't even being touched.

This had honestly been what he'd imagined when he'd decided to become an escort, getting paid to have sex he wanted to have. He was surprised it had taken him this long to feel that way, and surprised further that it was so normal. After everything he'd done he was starting to get worried he had some deep dark fetish he hadn't discovered yet and was a little relieved that he was responding to something as simple as a cute guy being into him. A cute guy with a dangerously hot side.

He was glad Yuuri wasn't overly tense anymore, but he admittedly enjoyed the trembling and jerking the other man seemed to be able to hold back now. He was just wondering if he should get the lube out of his jacket and move onto to other things when he heard Yuuri make a sound that was not a gasp, moan, or sensual combination of the two...

It sounded like a snore.

Viktor let the other man's dick slide out of his mouth slowly as he felt his already battered ego start to crumble in around him.

"Yuuri."

No answer.

He still had one arm covering his face and the room was only half-lit, so Viktor had to make the conscious, painful decision to crawl the rest of the way up the bed to look for himself. When he moved Yuuri's arm his jaw loosened a little and another soft snore came out as his head lulled to the side.

_He really fell asleep..._

Swallowing whatever tiny, shattered pieces of pride he had left, Viktor shook the stupid-drunk-hot-skater on the shoulder. "Hey, wake up. This sucks. I'll leave if you stay asleep." He didn't know if the threat there at the end would do any good, he was obviously the one who was more hot and bothered of the two of them.

Yuuri's hand raised up and for all of a second Viktor got his hopes up...before he got drunk/sleep slapped in the face, just heavy enough to kind of sting but just clumsy enough where you knew it was an accident. Viktor winced as Yuuri pushed his face. "Phichit...shut up..."

"Yuuri-"

"Your stupid hamster ate my headphones..."

"...What?"

The younger man grumbled like a much older man and then let his hand fall as he seemed to settle in to sleep, turning his head away from the only lamp that was on. Viktor felt himself start to panic a little; his pants were still on and stretched tight over his too hard dick. He tried to nudge Yuuri awake some more but just got swatted away or ignored completely.

Viktor sighed, settling into the sensation of blue balls and now able to process more than just personal disappointment at the situation. Yakov was already in a bad enough mood lately, he wasn't going to like hearing whatever awful review Yuuri was probably going to give Viktor.

While picking up his wrinkled shirt he froze suddenly, shirtless and a little wide eyed in a strange hotel room.

He had forgotten to tell Yuuri he was the escort he'd hired. Viktor had gotten so totally swept up and been so very distracted that it had completely slipped his mind. For all Yuuri knew he was just a random guy in a bar. Some people went for the roleplay stuff but Yuuri's preferences in his file had been utterly vanilla (light bondage wasn't even checked and everyone checked light bondage).

There was no way Viktor could charge Yuuri for tonight at all, he was going to have to comp the whole appointment.

Viktor had a brief flash in his mind of what he thought Yakov's expression would look like when he found out and he repressed it immediately. He did a quick inhale, then exhaled; expelling the problem and focusing on the solution.

He was going to have to face Yuuri again, possibly to apologize...possibly to finish what he started.

For business and pleasure.

* * *

The next morning was absolute hell for Yuuri when he woke up. His head was throbbing. The sunlight stabbed at his eyes like little daggers. He raised a hand to his face before rolling away to bury his face in his pillow, away from the torturous rays of light.

The first thought that went through Yuuri’s head was that he was so fucked if it was a training day. He looked over at his phone, squinting at first at the bright screen. He sighed in relief when he saw it was a Saturday. It was also four in the afternoon. His eyes shot open at the shock of missing half of the day.

He sat up abruptly, kicking the comforters off him, which was a mistake as he felt all the blood rush into his already hungover head. Groaning, he grabbed his forehead to massage it. He then felt a chill and looked down to his nearly naked body. All he was wearing were his boxer shorts. He usually went to sleep in his pajamas but in his boxers? Puzzled, he pulled the comforters back up to his chest.

He couldn’t remember anything from yesterday, and that worried him tremendously. Whenever he forgot the night before it was because he drank so much he blacked out. He cursed his lack of alcohol tolerance.

Dropping back onto his bed, Yuuri decided that he was going to stay in today and nurse this horrendous hangover. He had no plans today besides Phichit’s usual ‘let’s go explore!’ and he usually chooses to sleep through that anyways.

As he was drifting back to sleep his doorbell rang. Irritated, Yuuri grabbed a pillow and stuffed his head into it, believing whoever that was would go away. He couldn’t deal right now.

The ringing didn’t stop though, it was getting to a point where each doorbell ring was a kick to the head. Clenching his teeth, he summoned all his might the will to drag his heavy head off the pillow and out of bed...so he had to put on a shirt and drag himself to the door.

“Hold on…” he called out groggily. He found a shirt nearby and stumbled to the door. Catching a glimpse of himself in one of the vanity mirrors, Yuuri deduced he looked terrible. His hair was a mess, he had bags under his eyes and his eyes were bloodshot. His head was also throbbing and just in general his insides were melting into him.

_I’m never drinking again._

Famous last words, Yuuri thought to himself. He needed to call Phichit to ask what happened yesterday. If anything, his best friend would know.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Yuuri finally opened the door where he found an extremely handsome man standing outside. The man had gorgeous silver hair and wore a nice casual light suit.

“Yuuri!” the man said cheerfully when Yuuri opened the door. The silver haired man had a grin that couldn’t be contained.

Yuuri frowned and looked behind the man and then down the hotel hallway, but there was no one around except this random guy in front of him.

“Uh, are you lost?” he asked with an uncertain tone, not registering that the man said his name.

“Not unless you have a twin.” the man laughed. He spoke in a bubbly tone that Yuuri found adorable but he was seriously reserved about the situation.

Suddenly, the man winked at him, leaning forward before shoving the bouquet of flowers he was hiding behind his back at Yuuri.

Yuuri’s thoughts had frozen for a second when the man leaned in, his heart racing as the man got closer, and he stared in bewilderment at the flowers in front of him.

Rapidly blinking at him, Yuuri thought the guy was nuts, and he made sure to look at him like he was. He looked down at the bouquet of flowers in front of him, and then back up at the man’s handsome face. The stranger was still smiling brightly, like a psychopath, or stalker, or _killer_.

This wasn’t a joke, but Yuuri was sure the guy was crazy. This was a flight or fight situation.

Yuuri chose flight.

Still not processing anything except the feeling of utter panic and confusion, Yuuri jumped backward and flung the door shut in the man's face.

The impact of the door slamming against its hinges was enough to cause the flowers the man was holding to flutter everywhere.

“Yuu….ri?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We had an idea and just ran with it, and ran too far and over a cliff. Hope you like it!


	2. Won’t you pick me up, spin me round

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of slamming the door in Viktor's face - Good job Yuuri!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Optional: Listen to this awfully poppy cute [date song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV9Ma1v6N20)  
> Also added the [jazz song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PK3wavc_bm0) in chapter 1 to what they were slow dancing to in the bar!

“Yuuri, what’s going on?   

The man knocked on the door again, sounding confused. Yuuri’s heart pounded against his chest, not registering what was happening except for the fact that there was an extremely hot Russian guy outside his door holding flowers.

Yuuri was pacing back and forth inside his hotel room as the man continued knocking at his door. He looked around the room and saw his phone by the bed and dove for it, dialing Phichit’s number. He knew from his friend’s Instagram that Phichit had some Saturday-fun day-brunch with some other skaters to close out the World's competition, so he had to have his phone on him.

“Pick up, pick up,” he murmured, still staring at the door. The phone kept ringing until Yuuri heard a click, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Hello, Yuuri! How was your -,”

Yuuri quickly cut him off, “Phichit, why the hell is there a tall silver-haired Russian man outside my door carrying flowers???” It bewildered him, he left out the extremely hot part though. “If this is one of your jokes, I am not laughing,” he warned. Well, in case he gets murdered, at least Phichit knows what the culprit looks like.

“Oh? Tall? Russian? Flowers?” Phichit repeated back to Yuuri sounding puzzled. The silence went on for a second before, “Oh!” Phichit exclaimed.

“What? What?” Yuuri gripped the phone hoping it would make his friend answer him quicker.

“Um Yuuri, I think that's your escort,” his friend said as a matter-of-factly. “Did you not meet him yesterday? You don’t know what he looks like?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Yuuri tried to make sense of what the hell Phichit was saying and attempted to remember the night before. Cogs turned in Yuuri’s head as he took several long seconds to process all this information, slowly putting it together.

Yuuri’s eyes widened when he figured things in out in the head.

 _“Oh, my god!”_  he squeaked in horror.

“Oh…” Yuuri heard Phichit amused voice on the other end of the phone, “You forgot!” Phichit deduced with a gasp.

“I was at the bar, and I swore I only drank a few drinks...” Yuuri fretted, his distress increased exponentially as the night before slowly flooded back.

 _"Ohh...”_ It sounded like Phichit realized more of the situation as Yuuri heard the full-blown laughter now. “You got drunk and forgot you met with the escort, didn’t you?! Yuuri where the hell is he now?”

“He-he’s outside my door right now. I-I kinda slammed the door in his face because I didn’t recognize him... _Oh my god!_ ” Yuuri groaned.

He continued hearing Phichit laugh uncontrollably and listened to a thud on the other line, figuring out that Phichit probably doubled over on the floor, rolling with laughter.

“Yuuri, you just made me roll on the floor at brunch, is the escort still outside?!”

“Yes.”

“Open the damn door!” Phichit cried out in between gasps of laughter. “What’re you doing talking to me? The poor guy! In fact, how about you stay there, and it’ll take me no time to get there, I can meet him and -”

“NO. Not necessary, I can handle this. Nope. Just finish your brunch! Don’t come here!” Yuuri yelled out. No way in hell was he going to let Phichit continue laughing at him physically and embarrass him even more with the escort present. Before Phichit could say anything else, Yuuri ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed.

Glancing at the door, he breathed in and quickly ran towards it, twisted the doorknob and threw it open. Even knowing what was on the other side, he couldn’t help but be surprised to see the man there.

The handsome Russian was standing there, looking confused, but still had a smile on his face. One hand was on his hip and was at his side, holding the now dead beaten flowers. Yuuri’s belly knotted seeing those flowers, and he felt the need to say sorry to the man.

“I’m so sorry!” Yuuri loudly apologized before the man could say anything. “I honestly forgot who you were, I couldn’t remember, and I am _so_ sorry.”

Yuuri knew if someone slammed the door in his face like that, he would want an apology. He knew it was rude, and he had to explain.

He looked at the other man and searched his face to see a reaction, but all he saw was the man studying him with those gorgeous eyes.

_Wait- gorgeous?_

Yuuri blinked rapidly; he did not just think gorgeous.

The man tilted his head slightly; he folded his arms, still holding the dead flowers, and rested a finger on his cheek, pausing before he smiled.

“Yes…that’s right. I’m Viktor. We met yesterday, and you asked me to come by today as well.”

“I did? I don’t remember...” Yuuri trailed off, glancing at Viktor in surprise. He remembered none of this, then again he couldn’t remember anything past his sixth glass of gin and tonic. His face fired up when he recalled meeting Viktor at the bar, but could barely remember anything else after. It came back to him in pieces, but he could vaguely remember dancing?

“Yes, yes, you did.” Viktor advanced abruptly towards him, making Yuuri retreat until the back of his legs hit the foot of the bed.

“You really hold your alcohol terribly if you can’t remember any of this,” he teased, leaning in close.

Yuuri felt himself burning up, not only from the taunt but he realized how good looking this man was in front of him...and how close he was. He looked into Viktor’s blue-green eyes, and it seemed familiar. His cologne, which smelled like a summer breeze and citrus, filled Yuuri’s nostrils, and he remembered that smell from the night before.

“Oh…” Yuuri slowly processed, blood draining from his face.

Viktor chuckled. “Coming back to you Yuuri? We had a lot of fun yesterday. I’m kind of hurt you don’t remember most,” he whined playfully.

“I-I’m sorry!” Yuuri stammered, still processing. He was apologizing for not only forgetting him, but also for slamming the door in his face.

Viktor raised a brow, “Oh? Don’t be sorry. But you better get ready for our day out together, you booked me for a date, I’m free for most of the afternoon though.”

Yuuri frowned and was about to say something in protest, but Viktor shrugged and continued, “Unless you want to stay inside instead,” he leaned a little closer to Yuuri, and gestured towards the bed behind him, eyes glinting mischievously.

Yuuri gulped, his heart racing. He put his hands on Viktor’s chest to push him away, but the other man just grabbed his hands and stroked them gently. Yuuri gasped from the touch, before stiffening up, and with all his might instantly pushed Viktor away from him.

“No! It’s fine, let's go out. Just let me get ready!” Yuuri stammered, his face continued burning. He could hear Viktor chuckle as he slammed the bathroom door behind him.

When Yuuri came out of the bathroom all fresh and clean, he had hoped that everything that happened half an hour ago was just a product of his hangover. Maybe there wasn’t a handsome Russian escort in his bedroom, and perhaps he didn’t spend the whole night gallivanting around town with him, maybe this was all just a dream-

“Yuuri,” a voice drawled over from the side of the room, breaking his train of thought.

Yelping, Yuuri jumped up and backwards at the sound of Viktor’s voice. Viktor was sitting on the couch, he raised a brow at Yuuri and laughed.

“You’re so shocked that I’m still here.”

“I am!” Yuuri said exasperatedly. “I’m still trying to process what’s happening, and I’m sorry again for slamming the door in your face and ruining the flowers.” He nodded his head, indicating over to the battered bouquet which was now in a vase on the table. The flowers were wilted, sad, and a petal fell off one rose.

Viktor bellowed with laughter. “It’s okay Yuuri! They’re just flowers. You can make it up today,” he grinned.

Yuuri gulped, he was confused, partially amused, and utterly scared. He knew it would be a long day.

* * *

At first, Viktor thought he'd dodged a bullet. No telling what kind of trouble he could get into for basically honey trapping someone who'd hired him.

But as the sudden distance Yuuri was putting between them became apparent, he started to think that he'd have rather apologized, and that maybe bluffing his way into another appointment had been a bad idea.

Viktor went to put his arm around Yuuri's waist and the other man froze and then flinched away.

"W-What're you doing?" Yuuri whispered. He glanced around the empty hotel floor, a ball of self-consciousness, looking like he might run for the stairs.

"I'm sorry?" Viktor smiled, holding back a frown and putting his hands in his pockets while they waited for the elevator.  

All of Yuuri's preferences had been dull, but PDA was one of those plain little boxes that had been checked. Not that he hadn't been thorough before (he hadn't), but Viktor had gone back and memorized the profile Yakov had given him on Yuuri. It was painfully lacking any information that he didn't already know, and now here in the moment he was starting to think the whole stupid file was completely worthless.

"Can we at least hold hands?" He tried to tease, bumping his hip against Yuuri's.

"I...you want to?" He'd only jumped a little at being jostled, stilled by the question.

Viktor took Yuuri's look of bewilderment as his cue to be pushily confusing.

"Why yes, I'd love too! Good idea."

He had their fingers interlocked before the younger man could form the word 'but-.' Then the elevator arrived, and Viktor happily pulled Yuuri in after him, immediately chattering away.

"So where did you want to go? Do you have a car? If you want to go somewhere far like last night, we could get a cab again."

"Again?" Yuuri asked distractedly. His hand twitched nervously in Viktor's, and he kept glancing down at it.

"Yeah, I felt so bad for that cab driver I gave him a big tip." Viktor sighed fake-solemnly; winding up for what he hoped would be an unusual reaction from Yuuri.

"Huh? What happened?"

"You were all over me! Don't get me wrong; I love that. But of course it was one of those cabs that had a glass divider instead of a solid one, so this poor guy that picked us up can't check his mirrors without seeing one of us try to stick our tongues down-"

"Stop. Please stop." Yuuri had covered his face with his free hand, glasses askew and skin glowing red.

"Whyyy? I said I loved it." He couldn't help but grin as he tilted his head to the side to look at Yuuri. "In fact," he let his voice drop to a more seductive tone. "Feel free to do that anytime."

"I-I probably won't-" Yuuri sputtered, stopping when their eyes met between his fingers.

"Oh? But then you might?" Viktor leaned over, kissing Yuuri's knuckles since he was blocking his mouth with his hand. "I hope so."

Yuuri let out a small, muffled burst of nervous laughter and turned away for a moment.

Viktor, once again, felt like his ego was under attack. If he didn't think it'd be hard to get him to agree to hold hands again, he would've let go of Yuuri to cross his arms (and possibly pout). He tried hard not to sound snippy when he spoke. "What's so funny?"

"You're just...a real professional? I guess?" Yuuri said between chuckles, uncovering his face and adjusting his glasses. "You're really-" He glanced at Viktor for a moment then looked forward again. "-Attractive. And nice. It's almost like you really like me."

Many of his clients felt the need to remind Viktor he was being paid to be there, no matter how pleasant a time they were having. He'd never bothered to argue the point before, no matter how rude the delivery was sometimes.

Worse still, in this instance, it was kind of different. After he'd realized Yuuri didn't remember anything, he could've come up with any number of reasons to why he'd come back today. Instead, he'd jumped at the chance to spend more time with him. He wasn't even able to charge anything for this impromptu date since he typically had to be pre-book everything through Yakov.

Against his better judgment, Viktor found himself telling Yuuri proprietary information.

"You know," Viktor began as the elevator lurched to a stop, finally at the lobby. "I only take a second appointment from someone if I want to."

"...Really?" Yuuri seemed to ask cautiously.

Before Viktor could assure Yuuri that was the case, the doors dinged and opened, revealing two businesswomen waiting for the elevator. They were arguing back and forth in Russian and were oblivious to the occupied lift till the four to them almost collided.

"Excuse us." Viktor snipped in Russian, wishing he could’ve thought of something more passive aggressive to say on the fly.

"No, it was her fault!" One woman laughed, nudging her friend who'd charged forward first.

"Sorry, sorry, it's been a long day." The other woman said, adding her tired laughter.

"It's fine." He chuckled, waving their apologies away. He felt Yuuri stiffen next to him, his grip in Viktor's hand flexing for a second when the two women glanced at him.

As they moved out of the way to let Viktor and Yuuri pass, he couldn't help but notice that both ladies seemed to snap their mouth shut quickly after laughing, both semi-grimacing at each other like something embarrassed them. Before the doors slid closed again, he heard a muttered "Good job, Anya" followed with the reply of "Shut up."

"Soooo, where did you want to go?" Viktor prompted cheerily, still hand in hand with the younger man as they left the hotel and came out into the bright day.

"I don't care," Yuuri mumbled next to him, looking pointedly more miserable out in the daylight.

"We really don't have to go out." He reminded him. Shy was fine, but being purposefully difficult wasn't cute for that long.

"No, I wanted to...did those...did those women say something about me?" Yuuri had hesitated before he'd asked.

Viktor did his absolute best to keep a straight face. "Oh yes, they were asking if you were single. I said no." Viktor held up their joined hands. "That seemed best under the circumstances."

But Yuuri didn't laugh or smile; he looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes. "What did they _really_ say? They both gave me a specially nasty look."

Viktor snorted and lowered their hands again, this time telling Yuuri the truth and forewent the jokes. "It embarrassed them, that they almost ran into us, and I think they were giving those 'looks' to each other, not to you."

"Hmm." Yuuri hummed beside him, seeming unconvinced. Without direction, Viktor had led them both down the street in search of something to do. Yuuri was in a luxury hotel in the Central District, so there were plenty of restaurants and cafes within walking distance and even in eyesight.

"Do you have to stay paranoid?" Viktor teased. "Do you have a lot of, what do you call them, 'haters'? From your skating? You jump to conclusions pretty quickly." Viktor pointed out the earlier incident in the elevator. He noticed that Yuuri almost always tensed up whenever anyone looked at him, so he figured it must come with the territory of being a famous ice skater.

"What? No-"

"Then don't be so worried." When he smiled genuinely at Yuuri the younger man stared for just a second longer than usual, but not as long as he had last night, before finally looking away.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He seemed to concede, his shoulders appeared to loosen by a small degree.

"I'm mostly always right part of the time." Viktor nodded while he scanned the storefronts across the street.

"...How good is your English?" Yuuri asked skeptically.

He turned and gasped in mock offense. "I'm fluent!"

He winked and grinned at the other man and Yuuri finally cracked, smiling and chuckling as he shook his head at Viktor's dumb joke.    

The mood now appropriately light, Viktor led Yuuri towards a selection of shops and restaurants.

"Do you like sweet stuff?" Viktor asked, trying to narrow down their choices.

Yuuri paused for an awfully long time before answering. "...Yes."

"Great." He replied cheerily, but noting whatever confused look had crossed Yuuri's face just then. "I know just the place."

* * *

Nothing could have prepared Yuuri for today at all - nothing. Just yesterday he thought his biggest problem would be the decision to continue skating or not, and now here he was sitting with a professional escort he met yesterday, eating ice cream. Viktor brought him to the nicest part of town, to a cute ice cream parlor that held a 60s vibe with its Polaroid looking pictures of cars. He figured the owner liked vehicles as there was a life-sized car at the storefront; it was adorable.

“Yeah, the owner likes cars and ice cream,” Viktor chuckled as if reading Yuuri’s thoughts.

Yuuri nodded, taking his eyes off the car only to land on the glass showcase of...just _tons_ of pastries and flavors of ice cream. Like a little kid in a candy store, Yuuri’s eyes sparkled as his tummy rumbled, realizing he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. His dinner had been liquor and mixers. Gulping, he slowly approached the glass showcase full of confections, mouth watering.

“Are you hungry?” Viktor asked.

Embarrassed, Yuuri put a hand to his tummy to stop it from rumbling loudly in the store.

“So sorry,” Yuuri sighed, “I just...haven't eaten something like this in a long time,” he confessed. Ever since the season started until Worlds, he had touched nothing sweet.

“I guess if your job has 'figure' in its description, I would imagine,” Viktor said, surprising Yuuri with his understanding tone.

Again, Yuuri just nodded because Viktor was right, when you had the word “figure” in figure skating, the regimen was grueling for him, and it hurt that his metabolism was terrible.

He continued looking at the showcase, and he didn’t know how long he looked at it before he felt Viktor’s hand enclose around his arm, pushing him gently towards the counter. Yuuri was slightly taken aback when Viktor leaned down to murmur something in his ear.

“Get something. On me, I won’t tell your coach.”

“My coach isn’t the issue.” Yuuri laughed.

“Oh?” Viktor raised a brow, “Now I’m curious.”

Yuuri stopped laughing and inwardly retreated. He didn’t like talking about himself, even when he was being pushed to do interviews. It was just something he wasn’t comfortable doing even though he spent half of his life in front of cameras at and away from competitions. He always got lectured by Celestino to be more talkative with the media, but he never saw the reason to tell people anything about himself.

He sure as hell wasn’t about to tell a gorgeous stranger about his tendency to put on weight immediately. It had been an issue since an early age, he was always a chubby kid who had to work hard to keep his slim figure. He could smell food and put on five pounds.

There was silence again before he heard Viktor sigh.

“Okay, if you don’t pick something, I’m going to have to do it myself because your grumbling tummy is pretty distracting,” Viktor teased.

“Sorry!” Yuuri apologized. He didn’t want to make it awkward, and he had to shut his stomach up. He went up to the ice cream case as his eyes darted from one end to the other, practically drooling over the glass as he tried to figure out what to get. He wanted two, no, _three_ flavors on a cone. He thought about it and stole a glance at Viktor who was staring at him, urging him to get something.

Looking back at the case, Yuuri thought, _what the hell, the skating season is done,_  and ordered three flavors off the bat on a huge cone.

“Wow!” Viktor said in awe. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he grinned when Yuuri turned around with three huge scoops of ice cream.

“They all looked good,” he muttered, now embarrassed he got more than he should.

“They all taste good too, like you.” Viktor winked.

“I don’t know how you talk like that.” Yuuri grimaced, heat flooding back into his face.

Viktor chuckled, taking his cone and paying for Yuuri before Yuuri could intercept him. “I said it was on me. I’m glad you like it.”

“Th-thanks!” he said before turning around to find a seat. He was puzzled at how an escort was paying for his food, he still didn’t know how this worked. They both saw a bench seat outside the storefront and sat there.

Yuuri welcomed the cool feeling the frozen concoction he was eating gave him because lord knows he was heating up in all different parts of his body being so close to Viktor. Whom he made out with yesterday? He shook his head violently over-thinking about it and continued to focus on wiping his ice cream out.

“This is great,” Yuuri said after a few licks on the different flavors he picked.

“I come here quite a lot when it’s warm,” Viktor said. “So I’m glad you like it.”

“Oh, like with your clients?” Yuuri was too busy enjoying the ice cream he didn’t realize what he said before it was too late. “OH, I didn’t mean-”

Viktor waved his free hand dismissively, “No, no, it’s okay. Not really. I usually come here alone or with Chris.” At Yuuri’s puzzled face he explained, “A coworker.”

If that was true, Yuuri was a little surprised that Viktor would bring him here, if it was out of the ordinary. But he didn’t know what to do with that information so he continued savoring his ice cream. He would regret this decision later, but he couldn’t deny that this was delicious, it also helped that the company was great too, despite the initial shock of this morning.

He glanced as discretely as he could at Viktor.

He watched as ice cream gave under Viktor’s plush lips and his tongue slid over those same lips to clean them. Yuuri wondered how he chose this profession as he continued to watch Viktor lick his own mouth...staring at lips that Yuuri suddenly, inexplicably, wanted to taste.

“Want to taste mine?”

Yuuri jerked his head up to look at Viktor’s eyes, he’d been so busy studying his lips he completely missed Viktor looking straight at him.

“Wh-what?! Taste what now?” Yuuri all but sputtered his words out.

“My ice…cream,” Viktor drawled, his face weirdly lighting up when he realized why Yuuri was skittish. Yuuri watched as Viktor’s eyes widened in amusement, “Unless you want to taste… other things?”

Yuuri’s mouth fell open, and he abruptly jumped up from his seat like he was training to do a long jump, and ended up several feet away from Viktor, who was still sitting on the bench.

“Okay! Thanks for the treat! I’ll see you later.” Yuuri felt like kicking himself when he heard his voice rise an octave higher than usual. Yuuri had a colossal compulsion to flee, and that was what he was doing before Viktor grabbed his hand.

“Yuuri, are you alright?” Viktor questioned, Yuuri’s eyes falling back to his lips before he looked down at where Viktor grabbed him.

Since Yuuri was so embarrassed, he didn't think when he blurted out, “When can I see you again?”

Viktor’s eyes widened before answering, “Uh...anytime, just let me know when you want to book me.”

“I don’t know your schedule.”

“Tell me when, I’ll make it work.”

Yuuri was taken aback for half a second at Viktor’s determination.

“I-I don’t know-” He was well aware Viktor was still gripping his arm, not hard, but not releasing him without an answer.

“Then...tomorrow?” Viktor suggested. The smile he flashed Yuuri made his mind go completely blank and compliant.

“Okay…”

“Then it’s a date,” Viktor said. He loosened his grip and his fingers slid down Yuuri’s wrist till they were holding hands again.

When Viktor kissed Yuuri’s knuckles for the second time that day he found himself wondering if all of Viktor’s clients were this susceptible to his charms...or if it was just him.  

"R-Right!" he agreed, reclaiming his hand and putting some space between them again. "So I'll see you then?" He didn't give the other man a chance to argue, he was already backing up and getting his bearings to head back to the safety of his hotel.

"Sure..."

The last thing he saw before he really did make a figurative run for it was what looked like Viktor almost pouting.

* * *

Disappointment was the only flavor Viktor could taste, despite continuing to unenthusiastically lick his ice cream cone.

Yuuri had gotten ready in a hurry and had left the hotel in what looked like fitted workout pants, hugging his thighs and ass. So Viktor popped his sunglasses on to watch him run away, his consolation prize for giving away part of his afternoon for free and not so much as getting a goodbye kiss out of it.

Surely... _surely_...he'd get to fuck Yuuri tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp Viktor made more appointments. Fingers crossed he gets to do more than kiss Yuuri's hand!


	3. Death of an escort

The night before, after Yuuri had run away from him at the cafe, Viktor had been a society woman's date to an engagement party. It was a long, tedious affair and the night had ended with the women going to the sitting room to do he-didn't-know-what while the men crowded around a TV with a hockey game on. Viktor, playing the normal date, had spent most of his time on the clock talking about the KHL and closed in a room filled with cigar smoke.

He must have washed his hair four or five times, and he could still smell it. Like the ghost of an old man who drank scotch on special occasions was haunting him.

Which was why, even though there was a light drizzle, Viktor stubbornly sat on the patio in Yakov's backyard in an attempt to air out his hair before he saw Yuuri again later. He'd scooted his seat as close to the table as possible to try to stay under the umbrella, but he could still feel his back getting damp.

The back door opened and Chris came outside, shaking his head and tutting as he sat down across from Viktor. "Has it really come to this? Sitting outside in the rain?"

"Yes, it's all too much for me." Viktor sighed, trying to sound sufficiently devastated about something. "Tell Yakov I love him."

"It's not too late-" Chris said somberly, playing along and taking Viktor's hand. "- _you_ tell him."

They both cracked up at the same time, giggling stupidly. He and Chris had to be polished, refined, and erotic for work so in their off time they usually relaxed by acting like idiots.

"Are you working today?" Viktor asked, wiping away a happy tear.

"Of course." Chris huffed, rolling his eyes. "It's Wednesday."

"Oh yeah." Viktor smiled sympathetically. One of Chris' regulars had been sent to a boarding school in Sweden when he was younger. Now every Wednesday Chris dressed up as a nun and yelled at him in Swedish for a few hours while he apologized and cleaned his apartment.

"And you?" Chris asked, always eager to change the subject when it came to Wednesdays.

"I have an appointment later, but it's hardly work. It's that figure skater that Yakov gave me last minute the other day." Without meaning to Viktor had sighed in a particularly dreamy fashion and Chris noticed immediately.

"'Hardly work'?" Chris repeated, raising a single eyebrow in interest.

"He's really cute." Viktor sighed again.

"Is that all?" His friend drawled, chuckling.

"Maybe I like looking at pretty things."

"He's really that good looking?"

"He is when he looks at me."

"What does that mean?" Chris frowned.

Viktor paused and mirrored the other man's expression.

"It's hard to explain..." He didn't know if it would make any sense to Chris if he put it into words. How a few times Yuuri's posture had changed and the air in the room shifted to make Viktor feel...hunted? Was that the right feeling? It couldn't be, it was too negative an emotion. And the shiver of excitement that zipped down Viktor's spine just thinking about it meant it couldn't be a bad thing. "...I think maybe he just really wants me? I like to watch him watch me."

A positively devilish grin spread across Chris' face. He seemed completely content to keep dragging more details out of Viktor. "You do now?"

"Maybe I do." Viktor grinned back, finding that he didn't care at all to talk about Yuuri at length. His smile faltered. "Although, I could use some advice. He's so shy or inexperienced; I haven't even slept with him yet."

"Does he want to sleep with you-?"

"I don't want to entertain the alternative," Viktor said flatly, still unsure if Yuuri was less inhibited when drunk or a completely different person.

"I can't tell if this is one of your clients we're talking about or some guy you want to have sex with..." Chris chuckled at Viktor's pain, like the horrible friend he was.

"...Right now it's both." Viktor said pouting, making Chris' chuckles graduate to some full-on laughter for a moment. "Oh, will you shut up and help me!"

"Ow, my face hurts from smiling-"

"Chriiiis-"

"What can I tell you that you don't already know?" Chris shook his head as he shrugged. "You suddenly forgot how to seduce someone?"

"Uhg," Viktor groaned, running a hand through his still smokey hair. "It's not working. I can barely get my hands on him-"

"Yeah, so weird that someone inexperienced would be put off by you trying to feel them up." Chris cut in sarcastically.

Viktor wanted to defend himself, but no matter how many ways he phrased 'he didn't mind getting felt up when he was drunk' in his head it always sounded creepy as hell. When Viktor only sulked in silence, Chris snorted then continued.

"Just _think_ , Viktor. Anytime you're stuck with something it's because you're refusing to think about it."

"...Did you just call me stupid?" Viktor gasped and put a hand to his chest for dramatic effect. He would've jumped out of his seat if he was really committed to it, but it was still raining.

"In the most _delicate_ way possible!" Chris gasped back, mimicking Viktor's fake outrage.

Viktor dabbed his fingers in a little puddle that had formed on the table and flicked water at Chris.

* * *

 Viktor wasn't surprised when Yuuri had absolutely no plan on what they were going to do that day. He stuttered and apologized, looking like he was just as shocked to see Viktor there as he had been yesterday. Though at least this time he was already dressed...

If you'd call it that. Viktor wouldn't call it that.

Yuuri was staying in an expensive hotel, and Viktor himself wasn't cheap, but Yuuri dressed _so_ pedestrian that it took all Viktor had in him not to ask "you're going out in  _that_?" as they left. The slacks Yuuri had been wearing their first meeting hadn't been doing him any favors, especially knowing what he was working with.

But Viktor wanted to burn whatever factory made the jeans Yuuri had on today to the ground. Though he'd probably need to time travel since no one had purposefully made pants this ugly since nineteen-ninety-eight.

"Do you like art, Viktor?" Yuuri asked, ever shyly, as they stood in the gallery Viktor had brought them to. It was a smaller, snobbish place with a higher door charge than the Hermitage, meaning there were fewer tourists and people in general.

"I do." He beamed at Yuuri and enjoyed how that never failed to dazzle the other man for a second. As much as it pained him, he didn’t bother sneaking glances at Yuuri’s ass. There wasn’t anything to look at with those god-awful pants covering him.

"Y-Yeah?" Yuuri turned back intently towards the painting in front of them.

"I like this one," Viktor said, pretending to absentmindedly rub his thumb in circles on Yuuri's hand. He'd had no argument or fuss about hand holding today. Viktor could still feel Yuuri's wrist jerk sometimes when he got embarrassed. The younger man was content with his hand in Viktor’s now though, studying the painting more carefully than before.

The walls that the pieces hung on were dark grey, almost charcoal, making the frames and paintings pop with color. This one was all blues, whites, and light greys; an impression of waves crashing against the rocks.

"It is nice." The fond smile that crossed Yuuri's face was one that Viktor hadn't seen before. "What do you like about it?"

"Ah, hmm," he hummed, tapping a finger to his lips and trying to buy himself enough time to think. He was so preoccupied with...watching Yuuri...that he was really spacing out in most other regards. He'd said he liked the painting without thinking about it, even after Chris had flat out told him to  _think_  more. "I love the ocean, and I like the way the waves aren't finished. It makes it seem more like real water: amorphous."

"Yeah...you're right." Luckily, Yuuri seemed to consider Viktor's words seriously, not realizing he'd pulled his opinion out of thin air. "What's it called? The name's in Russian."

Viktor glanced at the card under the frame, then had to do a double take, frowning at it.

"...Giraffe."

"...What?"

"It's called 'Giraffe.'" Viktor said. He was just as baffled as Yuuri looked.

"Are you messing with me?" Yuuri almost mumbled, getting defensive surprisingly fast.

"I'm not, I promise!" Viktor laughed. He wasn't sure if he was laughing at Yuuri's readiness to sulk or at the absurdity of the painting's name. "Get out your phone, type in 'giraffe in Russian,' I swear that's what it says!"

"But... _why_?" Yuuri asked. Apparently, he'd decided to believe Viktor because now he was scouring the picture with his eyes like they'd missed a damn  _giraffe_  hiding somewhere in it.

"I have no idea...open to interpretation?" He'd giggled before his suggestion.

Yuuri's shoulders slumped after his fruitless examination. "I don't understand art."

"Come on," Viktor laughed, pulling Yuuri gently after him. "We can find some that are more...literal."

Yuuri snorted and shook his head, letting Viktor lead him back out into the main hall of the gallery. The second floor, where they were, was mostly empty. Despite the place being wall to wall polished hardwood they had long, beige rugs strategically placed, so the two of them moved almost silently onto the next room. The rain outside had picked up though, making their footsteps and murmurs of other patrons below wholly hushed.

They found themselves surrounded by abstract art in the next section. Viktor didn't mind looking, but it didn't make for good conversation.

"So, what did you like most about 'Giraffe'?" Viktor asked with a snicker as they passed slowly by a mostly white canvas with bright, geometric shapes compacted in the middle.

"I like how it made you think." Yuuri quipped, surprising Viktor a little and making him snort out loud.

"It really did." Viktor agreed. "Made you really wonder if anything is really what you think."

"Maybe that was the point? What are names anyway but what we all decided to call something."

"Wooooow," Viktor grinned. "So the label was part of the art piece? So cerebral."

Yuuri laughed, but different than before. He'd always covered his mouth and looked around self-consciously. While now he just laughed, only covering his face when he turned to shake his head at Viktor. It reminded him of that soft expression that Yuuri had made when he'd been looking at the painting.

"Do you like the ocean?" Viktor inquired, wanting to share more than his sense of humor with Yuuri suddenly.

"I...I guess. I've always lived by the ocean." Yuuri was fine with joking around but when Viktor asked him pointed questions about himself or even his opinions he seemed to clam up.

"Well, do you like it?" Viktor wasn't sure how to deal with someone who didn't want to talk about themselves. Most of his clientele were the kind of people you couldn't get to shut up.

"Do you?" Yuuri asked instead. "You said you loved the ocean."

"Oh, I do. I feel like I'm going crazy if I'm somewhere landlocked."

"Really? Why?"

"Hmm, maybe I feel disconnected? From the world? Or maybe it's just what I'm used to."

"Like the sound of the waves."

"Yes! Exactly. And the seagulls! Any place without seagulls is sooo quiet-"

“Seagulls…” Yuuri smiled as if something came to mind.

“Yes! I like the sounds they make with the water, it’s soothing-”

As Viktor talked about the sea, Yuuri had taken the lead, slowly walking them from one painting to the next. He only realized he'd dominated the conversation when they went to leave the room they were in, Yuuri having prompted Viktor through all his feelings on the ocean.

"-But Japan is practically  _all_  island, right?" Viktor threw in hastily as they entered another showroom.

"Well, a lot of it, not like you can see the ocean from anywhere..." Yuuri seemed disinterested, more focused on going to each painting, looking at it, then moving on. Like he was trying to get out of there faster.

"Do you miss Japan?" Viktor tried, a little disheartened he was having trouble holding Yuuri's attention.

"Sometimes," Yuuri said, distracted, as he tilted his head up to view an unusually long painting. The different rooms seemed to be themed, this one was filled with only tall and narrow canvases, some so tall they took up the whole length of the wall.

Viktor glanced around to make sure they were truly alone (knowing Yuuri would probably panic if they weren't) before he completely disregarded Chris' advice. He let go of Yuuri's hand and slid his arm around the other man's waist, pulling him close.

"Do you like  _this_ one?" Viktor asked lowly. He pressed his lips into Yuuri's dark hair, right behind his ear.

Yuuri froze up but didn't run. "I-uhm-" Viktor put little kisses all around Yuuri's ear and some on his temple. "I d-don't know-" Viktor had the sense to stop there at least. Even if the gallery they were in was a minor maze Yuuri still probably wouldn't hesitate to make a run for it if Viktor pushed too hard.

"It's pretty." Viktor murmured, glancing up at the massive oil paints that formed a ballerina with long brown hair in poriette.

"It is." Yuuri hurried to agree. He was stiff for another second then relaxed against Viktor as they both looked up, taking in the wall length dancer in front of them. "She reminds me of my ballet instructor..."

"You practice ballet?" Viktor asked, surprised. Why hadn't Yuuri mentioned that the other night when he'd asked Viktor the same thing?

"I do a lot of dance for cross-training," Yuuri muttered, moving on quickly. "But my first dance teacher did mostly ballet."

"Your form makes sense now."

"Huh?"

"When we danced," Viktor sighed, disappointed all over again that Yuuri had forgotten. "I don't know if graceful is the right word for it, I've never been that captivated by 'graceful.'"

" 'Captivated.'" Yuuri snorted, not taking Viktor seriously.

He ignored him and continued anyway, but in a snippier voice. "If you're half as good on the ice as you were on the dance floor our Russian skaters should be worried."

"Do you...follow figure skating?" Yuuri asked with extreme reluctance as he shifted against Viktor.

He cursed himself for still not bothering to catch up with it, and swore he'd remedy that later. "I've worked with figure skaters before."

"...Oh."

Abruptly, Yuuri brushed him off, wandering over to the next painting on his own. Confused, Viktor followed after him. His whole side felt cold where Yuuri had been. He was so damn  _distracted_ by it.

"Do you know a Russian skater with the same name as you?" he asked in an attempt to keep the conversation going. "Yuri Plisetsky?"

Yuuri wasn't very good at hiding his reactions, and Viktor watched him physically flinch and then try to play it off by adjusting his glasses.

"So I guess that's a yes." Viktor laughed. "Only people who've met him make that face." He stood next just next to Yuuri, so they were almost touching.

"Uh, yeah, he's really..." Yuuri frowned slightly like he was trying to think of a way to say something without being mean.

"Rude?" He suggested helpfully as he turned to face the younger man.

"No!...Well..."

Viktor couldn't help but snicker behind his hand before continuing. "He's not that bad once you get to know him, he's slightly less bad."

There was a long pause where Yuuri faced the piece in front of them, his eyes following the branches of a smudged pastel tree. "...So he hired you?" he asked, unsure.

"Yes a while ago, he's a brat but determined, you know-?" Viktor was smiling, but the uneasy look Yuuri had on his face made him start to frown.

"Isn't he...kind of young?" Yuuri asked as he lowered his voice.

Viktor almost choked on his own tongue.

"No! I mean-yes! He is!" He sputtered, having to remind himself to lower his voice so it wouldn't carry in the empty room. "I'm a choreographer too. He hired me to make a skating program for him."

"You're an escort...and a choreographer?" Yuuri seemed a little taken aback, but so was Viktor. For the second or third time now he'd  _completely_ forgotten he was working while with Yuuri. This was proprietary information he never told his clients, and here he was, telling a figure skater who knew Yuri Plisetsky that he was also a choreographer.

He tisked lightly at the younger man's surprise, lacing their fingers together again before he spoke. "I can only do one thing?"

"No." He fidgeted as his fingers settled between Viktor's.

"When we danced you told me you'd never seen anyone more fantastic and seductive on their feet-"

"That doesn't sound like something I'd say, drunk  _or_ sober-"

"I'm embellishing a little." Viktor shrugged, then grinned and rose one eyebrow. "Or am I?"

"Don't tease me about it. I really can't remember." Yuuri grumbled. He used his free hand to tap his fist lightly against Viktor's chest. It was the first time the younger man touched him on purpose, and Viktor definitely noticed it.

He took Yuuri's other hand in his. "Should I remind you?"

The smile he flashed Yuuri stunned him for long enough that he was able to step in close, taking the lead.

" _Here_?!" Yuuri was only able to blurt that out right before Viktor wrapped his arm around his shoulder and spun him out towards the middle of the showroom. The other man was light on his feet even in frumpy denim and tennis shoes. Viktor lost his composure at the disgruntled look Yuuri wore, almost cracking up at how miserable he made being graceful look.

"Didn't your instructor tell you to smile?" Viktor laughed as he and Yuuri both pulled the other, coming together in a clumsy 'wrong shoes' and 'wrong floor' dance.

"I'm not performing." Yuuri countered, but his lips were pursed together like he was trying  _really_ hard not to smile.

Viktor mock gasped. "You don't do your best during practice? For shame." They swayed sillily to no music and a smile slowly crept onto the younger man’s face as he matched Viktor’s steps.

He wanted to kiss him. Awful outfit or not.

He kept hearing Chris in the back of his head, like an obnoxious version of the voice of reason. " _Thiiiiink Viktoooor_ -" He wasn't sure why he was also hearing Chris as a ghost.

With an _immense_ amount of self-control, he didn't lean in and kiss Yuuri while they were close (though he imagined it).

"Viktor-" The younger man tugged at his shirt collar and for a brief, ecstatic second Viktor thought Yuuri  _wanted_  to kiss. Then Yuuri pointed over his shoulder. "-Look."

Behind him, on one of the two big columns by the door, was another tall, oversized painting...of a giraffe. In the same rough, impressionist brush strokes as the waves and rocks from earlier.

Yuuri surprised him, taking Viktor by the hand and leading them over to it.

"...What's it called?" Yuuri deadpanned, now having to bite back his smile.

When Viktor read the card, he could barely get the words out. He almost collapsed right there in a fit of laughter. "I-It's-ohmygod-it's called 'By the Seaside'-"

The other man's lip quivered for a second, and then he slapped his free hand over his mouth, shaking with laughter along with Viktor. They huddled together there for probably way too long, trying to calm down but then making the other person laugh again on accident.

"You-you thought it was part of the piece! Like to be deep!" Viktor had to gasp for air between giggling.

"What was I s-supposed to think!" Yuuri actually hiccupped once from laughing too hard.

"That someone mixed up the cards!"

"You didn't say that earlier!"

"I was thinking it! You were just so angry, it was hilarious-"

"You were  _not_  thinking it!" On the word 'not' Yuuri poked Viktor lightly in his side. When a playful smile came across the younger man's face, Viktor couldn't resist him. Or maybe he couldn't resist his own impulses. Or both.

"I _was_." Viktor smiled. He leaned over and kissed Yuuri right as he'd opened his mouth to argue. He kept it brief, not even long enough for Yuuri to stiffen up defensively. "Ready to go?"

Yuuri's cheeks had gone bright red and the longer Viktor smiled sweetly at him, the more that blush spread. "Y-Yeah."

And for once Yuuri didn't grimace and run (-yet. The day wasn't over, but Viktor could hope).

* * *

 Yuuri knew he wasn’t the most excellent company, due to the fact he was a man of few words. He was well aware that Viktor was doing all the talking while he answered a couple things at a time.

He'd felt embarrassed at first, internally kicking himself anytime he said more than a couple of words in response. He _hated_  sharing too much with anyone, the only reason Phichit knew him as well as he did was because they practically grew up together.

“So you choreograph?” Yuuri asked again as they walked down the hall of the art gallery towards the exit. He wasn’t done asking Viktor about this choreography business, the fact that he made a program for the rival that nearly beat him in Worlds caught his attention.

“You’re not letting it go, huh?” Viktor grinned.

“You’re the one who told me you worked for-,”  _for my rival_ , Yuuri stopped himself. “For Yuri. How did that happen?”

“I knew him from before he was a skating brat,” Viktor explained. “He came to the place I used to train. I’m not well versed in skating, but a dance routine is a dance routine, ice or not.”

“I understand. Ciao Ciao, my coach, is a great coach, but he’s not great at putting together fluid movements. I usually have other people come in to help, mostly my ballet coach.” Yuuri nodded. He understood that most coaches usually decided the program as well, but there were plenty of instances where choreographers came in, often with a broader range of influences.

“Wait, who was your ballet coach?” Viktor asked.

“Minako Okukawa.”

“Oh wow.” Viktor looked surprised. “I know her.”

“You do?” Yuuri blinked.

“Yeah, we were both recipients of the Benois de la Danse the same year, if I recall,” Viktor said nonchalantly.

“You received a Benois de la Danse?” Yuuri gasped, eyes widening. “How can you be so informal about that. That’s extremely prestigious.” Being whipped into shape by Minako every day and seeing her trophy in her ballet school drilled into Yuuri’s brain that it was the highest and most prestigious honor in the ballet world.

If Viktor made Yuri’s program that year it made sense why the choreography was so graceful and entrancing. Of course, it would if the person who made it had an honor such as the Benois de la Danse.

He continued staring at a very blase Viktor, and this concerned Yuuri.

“You choreographed Yuri’s set this year?” Yuuri prodded.

“Yes.”

“It was excellent. Do you ever want to just do that? Perform or go back to just choreography?”

_So good it nearly beat me._

Yuuri understood that the person executing the technicals and presentation of the routine had to have talent and precision. However, good choreography could enhance and improve on that talent, as it had seemed to do for his rival. He wondered why Viktor was an escort if he could make programs like that. It didn’t make sense to him.

Yuuri knew he said something wrong when Viktor didn’t answer right away and silence filled the atmosphere. Which was weird, considering Viktor always quipped at any and every question Yuuri had, throwing a joke or two in.

“I do.” Was all Viktor said.

Noticing that it was apparently a touchy subject, Yuuri shut his mouth and didn’t say anything else. He wanted to kick himself at how awkward he made things, this time being no different.

“But you know, since I know what I’m talking about, I have to say once again, you’re a captivating dancer,” Viktor side shouldered him, breaking Yuuri out of his thoughts.

Yuuri blushed at what Viktor just said. Well, the other man knew how to make a person blush and feel important that’s for sure. However, he thought that he had to set Viktor straight. The man clearly hadn’t seen him skate, so his opinions on it were moot. The only time Viktor claimed he saw Yuuri dance was when he was drunk, it didn’t count.

“I don’t think drunk dancing classifies as _captivating._ I don't know if I'm any good at all," Yuuri shrugged. The feeling of dread over his career slowly flooded back, and he pushed down the memory of the slight mental breakdown he’d had at Worlds.

"Well, I saw you on the dance floor, you're perfect, form and everything," Viktor said, a little too forcefully, it made Yuuri look up at his light blue-green eyes.

"You're doing a great job at, well, your job, so thank you," Yuuri said with a faint smile. Viktor's words did make him feel slightly better, but to be honest, his encouragement was meaningless against Yuuri's own wobbly self-esteem.

Yuuri heard a disgruntled sigh before realizing he was being dragged away from the main showroom to a darker, empty corridor in the art gallery.

"Vik-" Yuuri started before he was whirled around, so now he was facing Viktor, both his wrists in Viktor's grasp and resting on the taller man’s chest. Viktor's face was  _terribly_  close to his. Yuuri could smell the caramel off Viktor's breath and the citrusy-breeze cologne he usually wore.

His breath hitched as Viktor pulled him closer, his heart beating against his chest. Yuuri's eyes darted to ends of the hallways, for fear someone might see them, but that was quickly diminished when Viktor brushed his lips against his, ever so softly.

Yuuri’s brain froze, his body heating up all over, but it was a comforting, engulfing heat. Viktor had kissed him before, but for some reason, this light touch was so much _more_. Yuuri couldn’t put his finger on why this was oddly calming.

"Clearly, I’m not doing my job if you aren’t happy. Also, I'm not saying these things to do my job. I'm saying these things because they’re true. Your dancing _is_ captivating, and you have to skate for me one day," Viktor spoke softly as he gazed into Yuuri's eyes.

While Yuuri should be reeling from the _sort-of kiss_ , he was more entrapped at what Viktor said. Even though his whole face was scarlet red and his mouth was tingling for more.

“So you really weren’t just saying that just because I wanted to hear it?”

“No, and if you agree, on our next date you should bring me to your rink and show me how you dance on ice, because I sure love it when you dance _off ice_ , ” Viktor winked, inflecting the last couple of words so comically it made Yuuri burst into laughter.

“SHHHHH!” came a voice at the end of the hallways. After being left alone for most of the day, an older, hoity-toity, high society couple who went there to have silent thoughts about art were shushing them.

Startled, Yuuri pulled away from Viktor and tried to stifle his laughter. Viktor turned to the old couple and said something in Russian before grinning and grabbing Yuuri, leading him out of the stuffy art gallery.

“Hey, instead of next time, how about you show me how you dance on the ice today?” Viktor asked, grinning, his hand clasped around Yuuri's hand.

* * *

 That was how Yuuri ended up at the skating rink, slipping on his skates with a sigh.

The guard at the front of the rink told them the place was closed until he realized who it was, and while Yuuri hated using his  _status_ for anything, he was glad it came in handy this time around. The ice rink guard let them in easily, saying something in Russian that only Viktor nodded back to.

“I can’t believe you made me do this,” Yuuri complained.

He stepped out onto the ice as Viktor leaned over the boards, smiling at him. Yuuri glided across the rink and back to Viktor just to feel the ice. Since it was late at night he wasn’t sure of the ice was smooth, but luckily it was.

“Okay so show me how you dance on ice.” Viktor gave him a blinding smile.

Yuuri looked around, “I mean, what do you want me to show you? This is embarrassing.” Funny, Yuuri thought, he skated on the ice for a living, he didn’t know why this was embarrassing. Maybe it was just because people didn’t usually respond with ‘Show me!’ when they found out he was a figure skater.

“Anything, whatever you feel like dancing to - oh wait!” Suddenly Viktor was fishing inside his pocket and pulled out his phone. “We need music,” he winked.

Yuuri shrugged, grabbing Viktor’s phone and scrolling past his music, “You have a lot of Panic at the Disco,” Yuuri commented, his eyes glued to the screen as he scrolled through Viktor’s music.

“Listen, don’t judge.” Viktor pouted playfully.

“I’m not saying that’s a bad thing,” Yuuri knew most of these songs by heart and was trying to hold back a grin when he looked up at Viktor. He set the phone down, finally picking his music.

Yuuri turned around to skate to the middle of the rink, stifling a laugh when he heard Viktor’s adorable chuckle as [Death of a Bachelor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R03cqGg40GU) came on. The little iPhone held terrible acoustics for the rink, but Yuuri could still hear it fine.

He went into his starting position, legs crossed, his head bowed. He sneaked a look at Viktor, and he saw that he was resting his elbows on the boards with his chin propped up with both of his hands.

Yuuri should feel more nervous, but there was no one here scrutinizing him. No judges, no coaches...well, there was one. Technically a choreographer, but Yuuri felt oddly okay with it, even though his heart pounded slightly.

Yuuri let the music play for a couple more seconds until he picked the exact note to skate, at which he then pushed himself to glide backward with his left foot. He closed his eyes as he made himself dance to the rhythm of the music. Swaying to hit every note, every beat, every verse. Right now he wasn’t performing for anyone that was judging, he was just performing to  _dance_ like he promised.

He switched his leg to skate forward, getting ready to skate to the chorus which included patterns of steps he knew to do well. After years of skating, and perfecting his craft, Yuuri knew his step sequences were his strongest suit. What he lost out of the technical score he made up highly on presentation scores, which a lot of other skaters lacked. As the chorus hit, Yuuri sped up his pace and kept changing the rotational direction of his body, moving with the rhythm.

_Who am I kidding..._

He couldn’t help but think about it as he danced to the music. He loved skating, but he wasn’t good enough anymore. His capacity to handle stressful situations just wasn’t as strong as before, but then again, was it ever? He’d barely held it together while he was the uncontested champion, now there was someone nipping at his heels...Yuri Plisetsky.

_I’m just not the best at this anymore._

Yuuri was entirely in his head and forgetting his movements. He went to make a turn and leaned too much on the outer edges of his skates, wobbling a little out of control and doing an ugly zig-zag turn. Disgruntled and annoyed at himself for flubbing a simple one-foot turn, he carelessly switched his pace up getting ready for a jump, knowing he had no capacity for. He felt like he had something to prove.

_But to whom?_

Yuuri brushed his thoughts aside and ultimately fell out of line with the rhythm when he got ready for the jump.

And once Yuuri fell out of rhythm, he knew it doomed him.

Nevertheless, he got ready to do a quad salchow, taking off right but under-rotating his quad. When he landed back on the opposite foot he jumped from, he was so mentally exhausted his leg couldn’t stick the landing. He naturally crashed down, not bothering to hold himself up with a hand. He landed butt first, and next, it was his back that made contact with the ice.

He stayed on the ice for a while, eyes closed, and swallowing back a knot that was forming in his throat. He was so mad at himself; knowing he wasn’t physically exhausted, just mentally.

Yuuri knew that letting himself get in his head would make him skate poorly. Even with that knowledge beforehand it didn’t help him adjust for his mistakes. He was like a freight train that had no breaks and only stopped when he crashed into a wall, or in this case, a wall of ice. He sighed, clenching his fists at his sides.

“This was a bad idea,” Yuuri murmured to himself, covering his eyes with his forearm, thinking of staying on the ice longer before hearing a concerned voice from a distance.

“Yuuri!”

His eyes shot open. He’d completely forgotten Viktor was there.

* * *

 Viktor had seen enough skaters fall while practicing and performing to know that it wasn’t a big deal. However, those other skaters usually...got up pretty quickly...unlike Yuuri, who stayed horizontal on the ice long enough for Viktor to get worried.

“Yuuri!” He hovered at the opening of the half wall, seriously contemplating trying to slide out to Yuuri while wearing his shoes.

The younger man popped up at the sound of his name, then got back to his feet slowly, and even more slowly he glided over to where Viktor was. Everything about Yuuri’s posture said that he was thinking of making a mad dash for the other side of the rink though…

“See?” Yuuri muttered, coming to a stop just out of Viktor’s reach. “I told you.”

“Told me what?” Viktor was having trouble re-adjusting to his regular banter. The flash of worry had hit him hard, and the leftover adrenaline made him feel shaky. He was over-noticing Yuuri’s glances to the other exits of the rink. Was he _really_  going to run away here?

“I’m not any good,” Yuuri spoke with an air of finality like he wasn’t stating an opinion, but fact. His expression was one of heartbreak and Viktor reached out for him without thinking, putting a foot on the ice and almost immediately started sliding into an accidental split.

Yuuri skated forward suddenly, catching him. “Viktor! Be careful-”

“My hero.” Viktor snickered, wrapping both his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders as the professional skater helpfully pushed him back over the rink line.

“You _have_  been to ice rinks before, haven’t you?” Yuuri grumbled half-heartedly, letting Viktor hold him there at the opening of the boards.

“Hmm, yes,” Viktor hummed like he was thinking. “But I never wanted to hug the other Yuri when he fell soooo…” He smiled flirtatiously, but the other man didn’t seem to notice.

“...How much does he fall?” Yuuri asked cautiously.

“Oh wow, do you hate the competition?” He was immensely amused watching the calculating expression Yuuri wore turned into abject horror, then embarrassment.

“N-No!”

“You looked a bit sexy and dangerous just now.” Viktor mused, running a hand through Yuuri’s hair and flustering him further.

“No, I didn’t-” Yuuri turned away the best he could. He pressed his face into the crook of Viktor’s elbow and closed his eyes, seeming either exhausted, embarrassed, overwhelmed, or all three.

Despite Yuuri’s obvious frustration and melancholy, Viktor was very distracted by how precious he looked there. His cheeks dusted pink, brows upturned in an adorable frown, and lips tight in dissatisfaction.

Viktor imagined pulling Yuuri’s face to him and really and genuinely kissing _the hell_  out of him. It’s what he needed, honestly.

At least that’s what Viktor thought...or didn’t think.

What Viktor  _wanted._

He tisked inwardly, still plagued by the specter of Chris’ good advice. It took a moment to force himself to switch gears, but at least Yuuri seemed content to rest against him there in silence, probably caught up in whatever had distracted him when he’d been skating...which made Viktor cringe a little at his own selfishness.

“Say,” Viktor began softly, continuing to comb his fingers through Yuuri’s hair. Trying to be comforting rather than sensual now. “Do you come here to practice? Where all the other skaters train?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri shrugged. “They’re hosting us.”

“One of the great things about my ballet instructor was she had a studio at her home, and she lives maybe an hour or so outside the city. Far enough away that I could practice without having everyone breathing down my neck or judging me.”

“That’s nice.” The younger man commented, looking a little confused.

“It is!” Viktor beamed, attempting to change the energy around them by sheer force of will. “I think it’d be great for you. Why don’t we get out of St. Petersburg? There are skating rinks all over Russia, even in little towns.”

“What? But-”

“Do you have other plans?” Viktor interrupted gently.

“Not for...a few weeks,” Yuuri admitted after thinking for a moment.

“Something you’d rather do?” He grinned suggestively, hoping Yuuri got the implied ‘ _someone_  you’d rather do.’

The younger man rolled his eyes but turned a darker shade of red anyway. “No.”

“Perfect. Next weekend then? We can take the week to get ready-” Viktor’s smile faltered at the uneasiness that suddenly came over Yuuri. He shifted in Viktor’s arms and almost grimaced. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” Yuuri huffed, like he couldn’t find the right words, then looked up nervously. “I don’t want to offend you.”

“You won’t offend me,” Viktor assured him, releasing Yuuri from his sort-of-hug to give him space (despite how much he didn’t want to). “Unless you hate my hair. I might cry,” he added with a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

“No,” Yuuri glanced away, worrying the sleeve of his shirt now that his arms were free, and not so much as pausing at Viktor’s joke. “It’s just that it _does_  sound like a good idea, but...isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Make things sound like good ideas?”

“Yuuri.” Viktor scoffed, absolutely not thinking before he continued to speak. “I may kid around, but I’m a professional in everything I choose to do.”

“Viktor I’m sorry-”

He held up a hand to stop him, not done lecturing.

“It is my  _professional_ opinion that you could use some time away, for training or pleasure or both.” Viktor shrugged, not mixing in any winks or inflections this time so Yuuri could focus on what he was saying. “I’m admittedly much cheaper to book for choreography work.”

Yuuri stared wordlessly for a second, seeming surprised.

...But not nearly half as surprised as Viktor was at himself.

He’d only made a routine for Yuri Plisetsky because Lilia had asked him to ( _made_  him, more like). But he’d been name dropping him all day to impress _this_ Yuuri...all while Viktor still hadn’t even watched the Russian Yuri skate the program he’d made him.

Besides that, Viktor Nikiforov the former-dancer-turned-sometimes-choreographer was supposed to be separate from Viktor Nikiforov the escort-for-all-times hire, except in the most superficial ways like hiring him for a party with dancing.

“You’d train me? Help with my routine I mean, maybe just fine tune it...or whatever you think-” Yuuri graced him with an expression of timid enthusiasm.

Viktor thought he’d be disappointed that Yuuri was more interested in him as a dancer than he was in sleeping with him.

...Instead, it warmed his heart.

So much so that he couldn’t keep from beaming at Yuuri when he answered. “Of course. Next weekend? I can find a place with a rink and a studio we can rent for a few hours a day.”

“Okay.” Yuuri nodded, smiling a hopeful smile that was absolutely  _painful_  not to kiss.

Viktor was afraid that if he kissed him again, he wouldn’t be able to stop this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Death of an escort makes sense now ;)


	4. The weekend before the weekend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I apologize for not updating this for forever- work has been hectic for us! Also this chapter is some serious slice of life filler stuff, I promise next few chapters will be uploaded quicker than this long lull. We've had this and a couple of chapters sitting around- about time we posted. I am also working on updating my other fic [Angel to you (Devil to Me)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16335905/chapters/38218538) in the next couple of days as well!  
> Thanks for your funny comments and kudos!

Viktor purposely ignored the mess in the living room and foyer when he arrived at Yakov's house, making a beeline for the safe haven of the office. Being reminded of his boss's susceptible state just made him feel worse for what he was about to ask. It was the day right after Viktor saw Yuuri dance so beautifully on the ice, and he needed to get this out of the way so he could start prepping for his weekend getaway.

Nevertheless, he took a breath and put on his usual exuberant smile before opening the door.

"Gooooood morning Yakov-!" Viktor sang cheerfully...to an empty room. He stalled there for a minute, hand still on the doorknob and blinking.

"What do you mean 'good morning'?" Yakov's voice (already sounding irritated) came from behind him. "It's past noon. Would you move?"

"I only woke up a couple of hours ago." Viktor shrugged, letting Yakov pass before he got pushed out of the way.

"Isn't that nice," Yakov said sarcastically. "What do you need Viktor?"

Viktor did his best to keep his smile firmly in place. Yakov was still in the same bad mood he'd been in for weeks which was just going to make this more difficult. At least Chris wasn't here too, the only silver lining he could think of. The two of them looking at him with genuine care and concern wasn't something he could stomach right then.  

"I need next weekend off." Viktor chirped happily. "Thursday through Sunday."

Yakov stopped, only just reaching his desk, and turned to face Viktor. The scary expression he wore made Viktor wish he'd have waited to say that till after the heavy mahogany furniture was in between them.

"...You're booked months in advance."

"I know-"

" _Months_ in advance!" Yakov repeated, louder, like Yakoy thought volume was the only thing keeping Viktor from understanding.

He grimaced inwardly as he teetered between the two different ways to have this argument. He _could_ be an adult brat and just keep repeating that he'd be gone for the weekend, but that option would probably give Yakov a stroke from all the yelling he'd undoubtedly do. So he went for half of the truth and hated himself for it.

"Someone hired me to train them," Viktor said, cutting off the tirade Yakov was about to launch into. "Another skater, Lilia must have recommended me."

His boss, and friend, flinched at Lilia’s name, then deflated almost instantly. "You're doing more choreography?"

"Yep." Viktor kept smiling. He knew that if he showed even an ounce of vulnerability right then the conversation would take a sincere turn that he wasn't in the mood for. "So I need next weekend off."

Yakov paused for a long second, doing that thing he did where he looked back and forth between each of Viktor's eyes. He knew what his boss was thinking, what _everyone_  thought when it came to his old job. Every tiny step he took towards dance or choreography was met with well-intentioned support and cautious optimism that made him feel like dirt for taking advantage of.

"Well, of course," Yakov gruffed, clearing his throat and finally leaving his 'attack stance' to sit down at his desk. "I'll reschedule some things, just give me more warning next time."

"I'll try." Viktor beamed.

_I'm trash. Total scum._

"So you saw Yuri skate finally?" Yakov asked, almost giving Viktor a heart attack till he realized he was talking about Yuri Plisetsky.

"Oh! No, I haven't yet-"

He was interrupted by Yakov making a long, exasperated sigh. "That's probably why figure skaters are looking for you, Viktor. He broke a world record with your program."

"Really?" Viktor couldn't help but ask, surprised. He'd already been planning on catching up with the most recent skating season when he got home (really this time), but it'd mostly been to see Yuuri Katsuki skate.

"Yes." Viktor wasn't sure if Yakov sighed again or if he was just continuously sighing in abject frustration. "You could make a career out of it if you wanted to..." Yakov trailed off, probably realizing what he was saying, then glanced up at Viktor who was still forcing his expression to appear cheerful.

"Well, for now, I just want this weekend," Viktor said again. He was going to make every attempt to get in and out of there without actually playing on his boss's sympathy.

"That's fine, don't push yourself." Yakov nodded, looking almost as thankful as Viktor felt that they weren't going to have a heart-to-heart.

"I won't, thank you~" Viktor replied, overly sweet, enough that he got Yakov to roll his eyes before he left.

Despite how "well" that had gone, Viktor still felt a heavy lump of guilt settle in his stomach. Everyone would bend over backward to help him get back into dance or anything close to it, and he knew it.

No matter what other motivations he had it still felt like he was taking advantage of their kindness in the pursuit of getting laid.  

* * *

Yuuri knew as much as the next guy how particular people were with their drinks. Yuuri himself was a sweet tooth kinda guy, he liked his things sweet, yet not too sugary. He loved matcha green tea latte to start off his day, and that was what he was carrying, on his way to see Viktor, they had another _meeting_  today. He saw Viktor waiting at the benches of the park, and he perked up instantly. He didn't know why but he was always glad to see him after the first couple of times being absolutely jittery and jumpy seeing him.

After their outing at the art gallery and subsequently the embarrassing moment at the rink right after, the two of them have been spending time together pretty often.  Every time Yuuri wasn’t at the rink practicing (half-assed and horrendously, for that matter) for the summer show that was coming up, he would meet Viktor. Yuuri was still getting used to the situation, but he spent more time with Viktor than with Phichit that it was starting to feel normal.

Whatever normal meant as far as skaters and escorts go, Yuuri snorted, still finding this situation funny and surreal. This week was the week leading up to their ‘choreography-dance-weekend-getaway,’ Yuuri has yet to know what to make of it:

Finding it insane that Viktor even wanted to get away for a weekend with him, and offered to help with choreography.

Finding it insane that Viktor was an escort-choreographer.

"Yuuri!" Viktor called out, eyes lighting up with joy, waving when he noticed him. He looked as glad to see him too, or Yuuri just imagined it.

"Here," Yuuri shoved a hot cup into Viktor's hand when they were close enough.

"What's this?" Viktor asked looking at the cup.

"I owe you a drink," Yuuri reminded him. The last time Viktor got him a drink, Yuuri wasn't expecting him, or anyone else for that matter. So he jumped and accidentally knocked the hot beverages out of Viktor's hand into his nice suit. _Again._

Viktor grinned, “Wow! Thanks, I really needed this,” he took a sip of the drink and his eyes widened instantly. “Is this a…”

"A grande caramel macchiato latte with skinny coconut milk and light caramel drizzle," Yuuri said as a matter-of-factly.

Viktor was surprised, but his eyes sparkled. "How did you know what I liked?"

Yuuri shrugged trying to brush this off nonchalantly but failed as he was clearly blushing. "You said you liked caramel macchiatos at some point. I also smell caramel on you every day, so I figured.”

Viktor looked like he couldn’t contain himself, eyes still bright and sparkling, and jumped up to wrap his arms around Yuuri’s neck.

“ACK!” Yuuri staggered backward a little, trying to keep his own drink steady in his own hand when Viktor suddenly jumped on him. He was shocked at how simple Viktor was, smiling because he didn’t mind the hug. Yuuri got used to it every time they met, he wondered if Viktor conditioned him to like his touches because Yuuri definitely loved being touched by him but recoiled when anyone else tried to even smile at him.

After letting him go, Viktor led the way indicating they were going towards the shopping district, Yuuri had no idea what the plan was. Every time they met, Viktor always had a plan for what to do. As they walked, they chatted about Viktor’s week, he started off talking about the zoo and penguins of the sort; the Russian carefully left out details about his job, his _other_  job.  He figured it was none of his business anyways, but he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that kept tugging at him to ask Viktor more about his job, and why he decided to be an escort instead of a choreographer.

Yuuri would be lying if he didn't think it ate at him what the circumstances were with Viktor, ever since he found out he was a choreographer and did Yuri Plisetky's program. Half of why Yuuri agreed to go on this weekend trip was to find out the extent of the situation.

"Yuuri, stop thinking so much," Viktor's soft voice knocked Yuuri out of his thoughts. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize Viktor stopped talking about his week.

Jerking his head up to meet Viktor's playful gaze, Yuuri shook his head. "I'm not!"

Viktor looked inquiringly at Yuuri, "I would ask what you were thinking about that you completely missed my conversation about penguins,  but I'll let it slide, like a penguin" he smiled triumphantly at his joke.

Yuuri made a face from hearing the corny joke, his mouth twitched fighting a smile.

"Anyways' we're here!" Viktor abruptly stopped.

"What're we doing today?"

"Shopping," Viktor said, all too happily, lips quirking upward into a joyous smile.

Yuuri groaned, he hated shopping.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?" Yuuri had asked semi-awkwardly, standing on the small stool in the back of the tailor’s Viktor had brought him to.

“Hmm.” Viktor hummed, only partially paying attention. Luckily Yuuri wasn’t wearing any baggy clothes since he was getting measured for a suit. That meant that ever since Viktor sat down he’d been about eye level with Yuuri’s ass in another tight pair of workout or yoga pants while his measurements were taken.

“Viktor.” He looked up to see Yuuri giving him a disapproving frown in the mirror he was facing. “Stop that.”

When he grinned the other man flushed and looked away, falling out of the stern demeanor he’d had a second before.

“I was thinking about pants,” Viktor said. And that was totally true. He’d been thinking about Yuuri’s pants on the damn floor.

“Sure you were.”

“So many styles to choose from, you know?”

“Maybe let the tailor worry about that?”

Viktor made a fake gasp dramatic enough to get Yuuri’s attention. “Are you implying I have bad taste?”

“If you’re looking at my ass like that? Probably.” Yuuri said, one eyebrow raised.

Viktor cracked, laughing at Yuuri’s reflection and the deadpan look of concern. “I really wonder how you see yourself.” He smiled. “Aren’t you a professional athlete?”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.” Yuuri sighed, making Viktor have to hold back a frown. He’d been giving Yuuri conversational segues for almost a week about his career, but he’d never take the bait.

When Viktor had finally sat down to watch Worlds, and catch up on figure skating in general, he’d been almost shocked to pieces when he found out who Yuuri was.

Yuuri had broken records, gone to the Olympics, and there were a dozen or so pictures with him present at important events, not looking so out of place in an ill-fitted suit when he was surrounded by politicians who were similarly incapable of dressing properly. It had barely taken any deep research at all, when Viktor started typing out "Yuuri-" the search bar auto-filled his full name and he was blessed with pictures, articles, and links to various fan sites and blogs to follow to stay up to date on the latest Yuuri Katsuki news.

Everything he read said that Yuuri was the top men’s figure skater in _the world._

Viktor had to find all this out on his own time though since Yuuri was his only client that didn't seem the least bit interested in bragging or even talking about himself much at all.

“Where are we going now?” Yuuri asked as they left the tailors. He didn’t flinch at all when Viktor put his arm around him. That progress had only taken _forever_ …(to Viktor’s anyway).  

“Well, we need to get you a suit.”

Yuuri blinked a few times before speaking. “...I just got measured for a suit.”

“Yeah but that won’t be ready for a couple of weeks.” Viktor shrugged.

“But you said we were shopping for the trip-”

“We are! I’ll find you a few outfits off the rack for this weekend, and you’ll have a nice suit for later.”

“What will I even need it for?” Yuuri put up his usual token resistance, grumbling even as he let Viktor pull them closer together.

“For whatever.” Viktor chirped, smiling despite his frustration.

One of the first things that popped up when he’d looked up Yuuri on the internet was an ad for an ice skating show in Moscow. The ice shows during the summer weren’t usually competitions and were mostly local skaters, which was why this show’s website had made a huge deal about having Yuuri Katsuki and Phichit Chulanont (Yuuri’s friend) as headliners. Viktor had been making subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, hints about it as many times as he felt he could get away with and not seem desperate. Though he was at the beginnings of _feeling_  desperate.

There was always a moving line with Yuuri, which made him nervous to the point of distraction one day was completely fine the next. But when it came to skating Viktor was almost completely shut out, and could make no headway without starting a conversation with “So I was Instagram stalking you and-” The only thing that he could hope was that Yuuri would  _have_ to open up when they started training together. Then maybe Yuuri would ask him to go to Moscow.

Then maybe he’d finally sleep with Yuuri. Honestly, Viktor had a lot riding on this weekend. 

 


End file.
